Dúvainiel's Story
by Lady Anne
Summary: They needed 9, so after Gandalf fell into Shadow or so they thought, she joined the Fellowship. Movie based. All chapters revised & final added. Now COMPLETE!
1. Fellowship A Rewrite

A/N & Disclaimer: This is a repost of my first LotR fanfic. This is a Legolas/OFC fic, and takes place beginning just after the Bridge at Khazad-Dum part of Fellowship of the Ring (the movie) and will continue past the end of Return of the King (the movie). You will read many things that you recognize from the movies, and you will see some AU (DUH), though I will try to keep it as close to the movies as I can. I have basically rewritten parts of the movie with an OFC added in. Any similarities you may see with someone else's fanfic is by coincidence only. Obviously, since this is a Legolas/OFC story, it will follow Legolas' journey through the movies, so you won't see a lot of Frodo, Sam and Gollum. I've always felt that disclaimers were ridiculous. Obviously, I don't own anything you recognize. I don't pretend to own anything you recognize. If I did, it wouldn't be "fan" fiction. I enjoy the characters from these books and films, and appreciate the opportunity to be able to "play" with them a little bit.

OFC- Dúvainiel, which means "Beautiful Darkness" and "Daughter", so she is the daughter with beautiful darkness (her coloring, not her attitude)

And now, may I present for your reading pleasure (I hope), Dúvainiel's Story.

-

Dúvainiel shifted from her position on the branch. She was restless. Day in and day out, the meticulous guarding of the borders of Lothlorien was getting monotonous. Hours and hours of standing, or sometimes sitting, on the tree branches and doing nothing else but searching the horizon for any signs of movement made Dúvainiel nearly insane with boredom. If only she could read or sing to pass the time. But no, Dúvainiel thought to herself as she reached up and violently yanked a leaf from the branch above her. The tree groaned at her in protest and she muttered an apology. Haldir, the Marchwarden of the elves guarding the northern border, had insisted that full attention must be given to the task at hand. Thinking about it now, Dúvainiel scoffed as she impatiently pushed a strand of dark brown hair out of her face. As if anything exciting ever happened around here that would cause all this fuss. He always put her as far from any action he thought would come. She figured Haldir just did it to annoy her. Isn't that what older brothers did to their baby sisters? She would get him back though- him and her other brothers too, Rumil and Orophin. She just knew the three of them were in on it together. They often were when it came to tormenting the youngest of the clan- her.

Just as she was about to tear the leaf to pieces, movement in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. She snapped her head up and looked out at the horizon where she saw eight figures moving toward the woods at a quick pace. She whistled four short times and listened for the response. Once she heard it, she quickly moved down the base of the tree to the forest floor, and hid herself out of site, bow and arrow in hand and ready to use. All that training was at last going to get some use. In only a few minutes she heard the trespassers enter the forest.

"Stay close young hobbits! They say there's a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…" she heard one of them say, "...and are never seen again"

Dúvainiel's eyes narrowed at the words. Surely he was not referring to the Lady of the Golden Wood. Then she realized, Hobbits! In Lothlorien!! Dúvainiel had never seen a Hobbit, but had heard many stories of the small ones. Curiosity got the better of her, and she cautiously peeked around the tree to get a look. They were so little- like children! Just then, one of them stopped, and Dúvainiel jerked back behind the tree.

"Mr. Frodo?" a different voice asked.

Dúvainiel cautiously peeked around the tree again. She was surprised to see a Dwarf among the group and narrowed her eyes once more. Haldir made a movement to her from up ahead. She nodded slowly, showing she understood.

"Well, here is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

Just then, Lothlorien elves appeared from around the trees, surrounding the group of intruders with their bows drawn. Dúvainiel had her arrow aimed at an elf in the group. He just as instantly had his aimed at her. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir sneered. Dúvainiel rolled her eyes, both at her brother, and the Dwarf, who growled. Haldir made a motion to the Lothlorien elves, and each put their weapons away. The elf with the other group put his away as well.

"The ground is not safe so close to the border. Follow," Haldir said and motioned for them to follow. Dúvainiel fell behind and walked behind the entire group. Her mind was working overtime. Who were these strangers? What were they doing here? Why were the Halflings so far from the Shire? Who were the men that dared enter the elven realm?

Finally, they climbed the stairs to a flet and Haldir stopped. Dúvainiel walked over to her brother and stood beside him.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion (_Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil_)," Haldir said to the elf. She looked at her brother in surprise. How did he know this other elf?

"Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien (_Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien_)," Legolas replied. Again, Dúvainiel arched an eyebrow at the unfamiliar ellon.

Haldir turned his attention to one of the men, one who looked vaguely familiar to Dúvainiel, "A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen. (_Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us_)."

Aragorn. Of course. Dúvainiel grinned at him, remembering the last time he found himself in Lothlorien, when he fell in love with Evenstar. Dúvainiel noticed the pendant hanging around his neck.

He made a respectful gesture and slight bow to her brother, and acknowledged him with, "Haldir."

The conversation might have gone on, had it not been for the next comment, this time from the Dwarf.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!"

Haldir glared at the Dwarf, "We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days."

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul! (_I spit upon your grave!_)" Dúvainiel felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. How dare that Dwarf speak to her brother that way! She was just about to say so when Aragorn interrupted her thoughts.

"That was not so courteous."

Dúvainiel agreed. In fact, she felt there was much more she could say about the matter. She sniffed disdainfully at the Dwarf and turned her nose upward, just slightly.

Haldir, in the meantime, turned his attention to one of the Halflings.

"You bring great evil with you," he said, then turned to Aragorn once again, "You can go no further."

With that, Haldir turned and walked away. Dúvainiel glanced at the dwarf and sniffed again, and then followed her brother, her nose firmly in the air. They had only made it a few steps, however, when Aragorn brushed past her.

"Haldir!" he called out. Haldir turned at look at him. "Boe ammen veriad lîn. Andelu i ven! (_We need your protection. The road is fell_!)"

"Sa farn palan (_This is far enough_)," Haldir replied.

"Merin le telim (_I wish we may come with you_)."

"Amin hiraetha (_I'm sorry_)."

Dúvainiel could see that Aragorn was getting irritated with her brother. She turned her attention to the rest of the group, only half listening to Aragorn and Haldir as the continued their discussion.

"Henio, aníron boe ammen i dulu lîn! (_Please, understand, we need your support_!)" Aragorn said as Dúvainiel tuned them out.

She'd never seen Halflings before. They reminded her of elven children, except for the sadness in their eyes, and the worry etched in each small face. She saw one Halfling that seemed to be separate from the rest. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, with his arms wrapped around them. Everyone seemed to be looking at him. Then she noticed the other man from the group speaking to him, and she wished that she could hear what he was saying. So far, none of this was making too much sense to her. If she were just a little closer…

Haldir stepped in front of her, blocking her view, as he took a step toward the little Halfling that was curled up, "You will follow me."

With that, he turned and walked away, not waiting to see if the group followed him.

"Haldir," Dúvainiel said, catching up to him.

"Later, Little One."

Dúvainiel stopped walking and glared at her older brother. How she hated it when he called her that! She wasn't an elfling! Of course, he said it because he knew it made her angry. She sighed, and continued the walk, now just behind the group of outsiders. The odd group walked in silence for a couple of hours, until they climbed a ridge and stopped.

"Caras Galadhon," Haldir said, his voice filled with pride, "the heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

They climbed down the ridge and wound their way around trees and up stairs, elves from all over the realm stopping to watch them as they walked past. They reached the staircase that led to the Lord and Lady, and the elves that had accompanied the group to Caras Galadhon walked away from the group, except for Haldir who led them, and Dúvainiel, who followed at the back of the group. Dúvainiel again took notice of the elves in the other trees and on the forest floor, who were now going out of their way to stop and look at the group. How odd they must have looked, she thought.

They reached the top at last. Haldir took his place to the right of the staircase which the Lord and Lady would enter on, and Dúvainiel took her place to the left of the staircase. She looked at each member of the group, resting at last when her eyes met those of the elf, Legolas. He had a nice voice and she wished to hear him speak again.

The light in the room brightened considerably, and Dúvainiel looked up to the top of the grand staircase and watched as the Lord and Lady descended. She bowed respectfully.

Lord Celeborn was the first to speak, "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Eight there are here, yet nine there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

There was a long moment of silence, too long. Dúvainiel felt a knot rise in her stomach.

"He has fallen into shadow," Lady Galadriel said, breaking the silence.

Dúvainiel gasped as she and Lord Celeborn both looked upon the Lady in disbelief.

Legolas confirmed it, "He was taken by both Shadow and Flame- a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Dúvainiel heard no more. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the kind wizard. She looked up at Haldir, who had a sad and serious look on his face. She blinked back the tears, forcing them to stop. Finally, she focused again on the Lady's words.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace." Here she paused. Then, "Dúvainiel."

"My Lady," Dúvainiel said, as she stepped forward and bowed.

"I ask that you take our guests to the clearing. Help them get settled in, and see that their needs are taken care of."

"Yes, My Lady," Dúvainiel replied, bowing again. She turned to the group and gestured, "If you would please follow me back down."

She led the way to the bottom of the staircase, and followed the path around some trees and down more stairs. Finally, they came to a clearing. She was not at all surprised to see an area already made for the comfort and sleeping needs of the group.

"You may bed here," she said, gesturing to the area. Then, pointing to her left, "There is where you will find an area to bathe and change your clothing. If you leave your dirty clothes, they will be cleaned and returned to you. Food will be brought. Is there anything else you require?"

They each shook their heads.

"I am called Dúvainiel. If you should need anything, all you need to do is say my name. The Lady will inform me, and I will come at once. Quel kaima (_sleep well_)."

With that, she bowed to the group, and left them in peace. Within moments, she heard the beginnings of the Lament, and joined in as she made her way to her home, singing in grief.

A Olórin i yaresse_ (Olórin who once was)  
_Mentaner i Numeherui_ (Sent by the Lords of the West)  
_Tírien i Rómenóri_ (To guard the Lands of the East)_

Melme nóren sina_ (Our love for this land)  
_núra ala_ (Is deeper than the deeps)  
_Eäro_ (Of the sea)_

Maiaron i Oiosaila_, (Wisest of all Maiar,)  
_Manan elye etevanne_ (What drove you to leave)  
_Nórie i malanelye?_ (That which you loved?)  
_Ilfirin nairelma_ (Yet we will cast all away)  
_ullume nucuvalme_. (Rather than submit.)  
_Nauva i nauva_ (What should be shall be)_

Ú-reniathach (_No more will you wander_)  
i amar galen (_The green fields of this earth_)  
I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen. (_Your journey has ended in darkness_.)

For the first time in a long time, Dúvainiel felt despair. She laid on her bed, with her face buried in her pillow, and sobbed until she fell asleep.

Someone was calling her name.

"Dúvainiel!"

Her eyes snapped open and she found Orophin giving her an odd look.

"Get up, Little One. The Lady requests your presence," he told her, and then turned and left her alone.

She was out of bed immediately, after all, one did not keep The Lady waiting. She looked outside and saw that it was indeed morning already. As quickly as she could, she cleaned herself up and put on fresh clothes. Grabbing her belt, sword, and quiver and bow, she was out the door before anyone else had a chance to tell her good morning. She sprinted down the stairs, through the trees and back up the stairs to Galadriel's meeting area, where Galadriel herself was waiting. Dúvainiel bowed.

"You sent for me, My Lady?"

"Dúvainiel, please come. Sit with me a while," the Lady Galadriel said as she gestured to the empty cushion beside her.

Dúvainiel did as she was told, squirming slightly under the weight of the Lady's watchful eyes.

"You are unhappy," the Lady said. It was not a question.

"My Lady?"

Galadriel said nothing for a moment. She stood and walked to an open area in the wall of the talon and looked down to the forest floor.

"When your parents died, and your brothers were left to raise you, I did all I could to be a mother to you and teach you how to be a lady."

Galadriel walked over put her hand on the younger elleth's cheek.

"You not only look like your mother, but you have her spirit as well. She was never one to conform, either. I believe it is why your father loved her as much as he did."

The Lady of the Wood paused and wandered back to the open space to look down again on the forest floor. Finally, she broke her silence, "There is a request I would make of you, Dúvainiel. A personal favor."

Dúvainiel tried to hide her surprise as she waited quietly for Galadriel to continue.

"The group you met yesterday, The Fellowship of the Ring… the Hobbit Frodo, carries The One Ring to Mordor to destroy it."

This time, Dúvainiel could not hide her surprise, as she gasped. The One Ring! Here in Lothlorien! It was no wonder Haldir had wanted to keep the Halfling away!

"Without Gandalf," the Lady continued, "I worry that the quest will fail. Should it fail…"

Galadriel paused, the weight of her words hanging between them.

"I would ask that you join the Fellowship, Dúvainiel."

At first she said nothing. Join that group of males? To destroy the evil Ring? Surely this was a joke.

"I assure you, I am not joking, Dúvainiel. Of course, I thought about sending one of your brothers, but as you say, a group of males- they need the balance. And you can help them in ways your brothers couldn't."

Dúvainiel looked scandalized. Surely she wasn't suggesting…

"No, I wasn't," Galadriel responded in an amused tone, "Your brothers are capable warriors, but you, Dúvainiel, also have the ability to negotiate, to ease troubled hearts, and heal others when needed."

There was another pause.

"There are others I could ask, but I believe you would be well suited to this task. You have the ability to fight alongside them- being raised by three older brothers has its advantages," her crystal blue eyes sparkled. "But you have a softer touch as well- one that is needed in such dark times."

"Of course, my Lady. Do they know?" Dúvainiel asked, hardly believing what was happening.

"I have already spoken with Aragon this morning. He understands the need for nine. They will rest for 7 days longer, and then the journey will continue by river. Will you be ready?"

Dúvainiel looked into the Galadriel's eyes, "Yes, my lady."

"Gen hannon (_I thank you_)," Lady Galadriel said, as she walked over to Dúvainiel, placed her hand on Dúvainiel's shoulder, and gave it a comforting squeeze, then left the room.

Dúvainiel made her way down to the clearing where she had led the group the night before.

"'Quel amrun (_good morning_)," she said when she saw Legolas and Aragorn.

"Quel amrun," Legolas replied. Aragorn nodded to her.

"Good morning," she said to the rest of the group. A few of them muttered in return. "May I join the group for breakfast?" she asked Aragorn.

"Of course, my lady," he told her, gesturing for her to join them.

"Le hannon (_thank you_). And please, call me Dúvainiel."

"As you wish."

The other man, Boromir she later learned he was called, came over and joined them. The dwarf was still asleep, and the hobbits had already eaten once already. There was an uncomfortable silence as they ate, and then the two men began to speak to each other about the journey. Dúvainiel looked at Legolas.

"Would you like to take a walk when we are finished?" she asked.

"I would like that. This is the first time that I have been to Lothlorien."

She smiled at him, and they finished eating. He stood up and held out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up, let go of her hand and she led them away.

"So… Legolas? Where are you from?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

"Mirkwood," he told her shortly, not offering any other information.

"You're far from home," she said, sounding sad. "Do you miss it?"

"I miss my father, but other than that, no. I've been confined there all my life."

She understood that!

"That's me as well. I was rather surprised by the Lady's request for me to join The Fellowship. I'm surprised my brothers would allow it, not that they have much of a choice." After all, when Lady Galadriel asked something of you, you did it without argument.

She led him around trees and off a path, deep into the forest.

"When my father asked for volunteers to go to Imladris, I nearly jumped at the chance. I was also surprised by his permission to leave Mirkwood."

The sound of rushing water met their sensitive ears, and Dúvainiel led him closer to it. They rounded a corner where a waterfall came into sight. It was at least forty feet tall, and it was one of Dúvainiel's most favorite places in the world. What led her to bring him to it, she didn't know. She had never taken anyone there. They came to the edge of the water, and then moved towards the falls. Dúvainiel began to climb the rocks on the edge, and looked back at Legolas.

"You coming?" she challenged.

He took a step up and followed her lead. She led them up and then behind the falls to a cave. Once inside the cave, she looked at the blankets and wood she had left the last time. She knelt down and began to rub the flint with the wood. The fire lit, and she added more wood to it.

"I come here a lot," she explained as she sat down and gestured for Legolas to join her. When he did, she continued, "It's quiet, and no one bothers me here."

Blue eyes met her brown as he smiled at her, and she felt her stomach do flips. My, but he was handsome. Maybe the journey wouldn't be so bad, after all.

"Tell me of the journey so far," she said.

It was the most she had heard him say, so far, and she felt lulled by his deep, calm voice as he told her of his journey to Imladris from Mirkwood, and then the Fellowship's journey from Imladris. She focused in on the flames of the fire as he told his story, and deep within those flames, she saw it. As though looking through Legolas' eyes, she saw visions of crebain, the snow and winds of Carhadhras, and the death of Moria. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of Gandalf, falling into the darkness.

"Dúvainiel? Dúvainiel?" Legolas said in a concerned tone.

Her eyes came into focus on his face as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"To see the past through another's eyes… it my gift from the Valar," she told him, wishing the image of Gandalf would leave her mind.

Legolas nodded in understanding, and reached over to grasp her hand. They sat silently for a while, Legolas holding her hand in a comforting gesture, and Dúvainiel accepting his compassion. Finally, she suggested that it was time for them to return, and they did.

"Thank you for the walk, Dúvainiel," Legolas said.

"Ta nae seasamin (_It was my pleasure_)," she replied. "I will leave you now."

She acknowledged the other members of the group, and then headed back to her talon.

Over the next few days, she would wake and dress, then meet with the Fellowship for breakfast. During that time, she learned a little bit of each member of the group she would be joining. Boromir spoke to her at length about his home, Gondor. He seemed to appreciate her company, but the Dwarf, Gimli, remained aloof when she was around. Well, that suited her just fine. She, like most of her kinsman, had an extreme dislike for Dwarves. And she hadn't gotten past his comments to her brother. The Hobbits, however, she found to be great company. They were quite happy to tell her tales of their home and their adventures. After breakfast, she and Legolas would walk through the woods of Lorien for the rest of the morning hours, before returning to the little clearing, where she would leave him and return to her duties as a guard. She knew that the members of the Fellowship used their time in the afternoon to practice their weaponry skills. In the evenings, she would return home. She had not seen Haldir since the arrival of the Fellowship. In her heart, she knew it was because he was angry that she had been chosen to join the group. He would not be there to protect his baby sister. She hoped to be able to tell him good-bye before she left.

The next day was the big day for Dúvainiel. Her stomach was twisted in nervous knots, as she thought about leaving Lothlorien for the first time in her life. She forced herself out of bed, bathed and then dressed in the simple tunic and leggings that she wore when guarding the forest, with the Lothlorien shades of grey and green. She placed small daggers in strategic, hidden places all over her body. Then she pulled out a small bag and filled it with another simple tunic, and then a gown of a deep forest green. She shook her head, wondering why she would bother thinking that she would need it, but packed it anyways, along with a delicate circlet similar to what all elven women wore for special occasions. She grinned at the thought of wearing it. She couldn't even remember the last time it graced her head. Just as she was finishing, she heard her name being called.

"Dúvainiel?"

It was Lady Galadriel.

"My Lady!" Dúvainiel exclaimed, surprised to see her.

"Are you ready, my child?"

"I am," Dúvainiel replied, her voice quivering.

"I've brought you a gift, Dúvainiel," Galadriel said, handing Dúvainiel a sheathed sword. "For your journey."

Dúvainiel took the sword with shaking hands. Pulling it from the sheath, she gasped at the beauty of the weapon.

"NáElbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín (_May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life_)," she read the engraving on the silver blade. "Le hannon (_Thank you_), Lady Galadriel." Dúvainiel sheathed the sword once more, and admired the handle, carved in silver and gold leaves.

"Im gosta, (_I'm afraid_)," she said, looking into Galadriel's eyes.

"I know," she replied. "But this is your destiny, Dúvainiel. Your path laid out for you by the Valar. Fear not. You will not be alone." Galadriel touched the young elf's cheek with the back of her fingers. "Namárië (_Farewell_)," she said, placing her hand at the base of Dúvainiel's neck, where the leaf pendant Dúvainiel's parents had given her, was hanging.

"Namárië, Lady Galadriel," Dúvainiel replied, and then bowed when Galadriel pulled her hand away. Their eyes met once more, and then Galadriel was gone. Dúvainiel sighed. Returning to her bed to collect her things, Dúvainiel stopped only to put her cloak around her shoulders, and put her new sword on. She picked up her bow and quiver, which was full of arrows, and the grabbed the small bag of clothing she had packed. She looked around her home once more, a feeling of sadness washing over her, and she felt this would be the last time that she would ever see the place that she grew up in.

She headed out the door and down the steps, wondering where her brothers had all disappeared to. She walked ever-so-slowly towards the river bank, where the boats were being prepared. Just as she came within sight of the boats, a familiar voice called to her.

"Little One!"

She turned and saw her three brothers walking towards her. She ran to them and threw her arms around each of them- first Haldir, then Orophin, then Rumil, and then Haldir again. Rumil and Orophin had always had each other, but she had always been closest to her eldest brother, especially since he had taken the role of her parent when their parents died.

Her eyes prickled with tears as she said good-bye to her brothers. She wondered when she would see them again.

Haldir held her the longest and before letting go, whispered to her, "Keep your eyes and ears open, Little One. Go with your first instinct. If you do these things, we will see each other again soon."

He let go of her and held her at arms length, looking into her face, as if memorizing every last detail.

"You've grown into a beautiful elleth, Little One," he said, cocking his head to the side. "When did that happen?"

She slapped his arm lightly, "You must have been looking the other way. I'm all grown up now." And leaving, she thought. It made her sad all over again. She threw herself into her brother's arms once more.

"Namárië, Haldir," she whispered.

"No galu govad gen (_May blessings go with you_)," he replied, as he held her hand and walked her to the boat.

By the time she arrived, they were waiting on her. Sam and Frodo were loaded into a boat with Aragorn, and Boromir had Merry and Pippin with him, which left Dúvainiel in the last boat with Legolas and the Dwarf. She was happy to be with Legolas, and decided to just ignore the Dwarf, though she felt that might be difficult, as bad as he smelled. Legolas reached out his hand to her to help her in, and she took it, rocking the small boat just slightly. For a brief moment, Legolas had one hand and Haldir had the other, until her brother reluctantly let go. She did not miss the look that passed between the two ellons as she pulled her hand from Legolas and sat in front. Without a word, Legolas had accepted the responsibility of looking after Dúvainiel. A charge Rumil and Orophin would later tell Haldir they did not envy the prince, as she was known for her penchant for getting into mischief.

Gimli now sat between her and Legolas, who rowed from the back. She took up the other oar and looked up at Haldir, who stood at the shore. She gave him a smile that was anything but how she felt about the situation and when he didn't smile back, her own wavered. She looked away from him and picked up an oar.

The time had come to go, and she hesitated, then dipped her oar in and their boat made the first stride forward. As they came to the first bend, she turned to look at Lothlorien one last time. She saw her brothers standing together, bidding her farewell. Haldir lifted an arm to wave. She gave a small smile and waved back.

"Namárië," she whispered to them, and watched, until they were out of sight. She turned forward once more, and sighed.

The boats held a steady pace for a while, and they rode in silence as everyone seemed lost in thought. Finally, it was Gimli who broke the silence in their boat.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting," he said gruffly, "having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

Dúvainiel said nothing as Legolas asked Gimli what the gift was. She found herself quite interested to know.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

Dúvainiel turned to look at the Dwarf, surprise written all over her face. Over his shoulder, she saw Legolas grinning, and her heart fluttered.

"The Lady is, among many other things, generous. What did she give to you, Legolas?" Dúvainiel asked.

"A bow of the Galadhrim," he replied, proudly.

She smiled at him and turned forward once more. She could not stand the silence and the tension, and in a voice so soft that only those in her boat could hear, she began to hum an elven lullaby. It was comforting to all three of them, and by the time she was done, Dúvainiel felt herself relax.

Again, the only sound that could be heard was the sounds of the oars dipping into the water, and remained that way for some time. Dúvainiel pulled the oar inside and set it on her lap. Just then, the hairs on her neck stood on end, and she flinched when she heard the sound of a growl coming from deep within the forest. She glanced back at Legolas and could tell from the expression on his face that he had heard it too. No one else appeared to have, though, as they kept rowing as if nothing had happened. Dúvainiel put the oar back into the water, when yet another sound startled her.

She didn't recognize the sound, a bird of some kind, she thought. This time, she noticed that Aragorn and Boromir both held expressions of alarm as they looked around at one another. This was not a good sign, Dúvainiel thought.

The tension returned, as the group continued down the river silently. Hours passed and the sun began to set. Finally, Aragorn led them towards the bank of a small island. Dúvainiel helped Boromir and Legolas empty the boats of the items they would need for that night, while the Halflings rested, except for Sam, who began to cook the evening meal for them all. After they had eaten, Dúvainiel and Legolas scouted on one side of the small island, while Boromir and Aragorn patrolled the other. The elves were alarmed when they heard raised voices, and returned to the group.

"…Scared of who you are, of what you are," Boromir was saying.

There was a pause, and Dúvainiel saw Aragorn turn to Boromir and within inches of his face said in a tone that left no room for argument, "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city."

Aragorn turned and angrily made his way to his makeshift bed. Boromir's eyes met hers, he looked stunned and humiliated. He looked away from her and back at the river.

Dúvainiel said nothing, ignoring the men, and looking around at the temporary beds on the ground. She noticed that Frodo was still awake, sat next him. She put her hand on his head, and then ran her fingers through his hair, softly singing the elven lullaby. It wasn't long, and he drifted into an uneasy sleep. She felt sad for the little Halfling. She could feel his uneasy and despair. How hard for him to be the one to carry the Ring! Her eyes focused on it, and she heard a voice whisper her name. She shuddered and pulled her hand away from Frodo and looked away from the Ring. The whispering stopped.

Dúvainiel decided that was ready to rest as well, so she made herself a bed area next to Frodo with Sam sleeping on his other side, and stared up at the night sky. She was grateful for the clear night, finding comfort in the blanket of stars until she fell asleep.

The next morning, the light from dawn was just beginning to break when Dúvainiel woke. She glanced at Frodo, who was turned towards her, watching her. She smiled at him.

"Frodo," she whispered, "go back to sleep. You need the rest."

He didn't say anything, but he shut his eyes obediently. She sat up and looked around, noticing that everyone else was still asleep, so she quietly go up and made her way around to the back of the island. Once she was sure she was out of sight, she pulled off all over her clothes except her under garments, and stepped into the river to bathe. After all, she was representing Lady Galadriel and the elves of Lothlorien. She refused to smell like one of the males, if she could possibly help from doing so. The sun was starting to bring more light, and she knew the rest of the group would be getting up soon, so she forced herself out of the water. She was squeezing the water from her long hair when she felt eyes watching her. She looked up, and saw Boromir standing at the edge of the ridge that had blocked her from the view of the group. The expression on his face told her that he fully appreciated her feminine curves. She stared right back for a moment, and then snapped at him.

"Turn around please."

Embarrassed at being caught watching her, his face went red as he turned his back to her. Quickly, she pulled her clothes back on, and brushed past him as she headed back to the camp area.

"Get a good look?" she asked as she went by him.

He grabbed her arm, and she turned to look at him. He had not let go of her arm, and he looked over her body hungrily and then grinned.

"I'm just a man, Dúvainiel," he said in a charming tone.

He was handsome, but she was angry now at him, his intrusion and his poor attempt to seduce her, "Kindly take your hand off me." He looked stunned at her response. Clearly, he had expected her to let him have his way with her, right then and there. He let go of her, and she stomped away. His invasion of her privacy and his lack of remorse that he'd been caught had truly angered her.

She was not surprised to see the rest of the group up and preparing for the day's travel. She stopped next to the area where she had slept and gathered her things together and then placed them in the boat. Once that was done, she sat down and plaited her hair, something she did often to keep it out of her way. Sam had finished making the meal for the morning and the group ate in silence until Aragorn told them it was time to go.

The boats were loaded the same as the day before and the group headed down the river once again. Some hours later, they came to two huge statues, one on each side of the river, which narrowed considerably as it went past the statues. Majestic, and carved out of the rock from the quarries lining the river now, each member of the group looked at them in awe. Their left arms were held out with the palms of the hand facing towards the group, in a gesture of warning. Solemn and stern expressions graced their faces. They stood as silent wardens of a long vanished kingdom and as a gate of sorts. Once they passed them, the river opened up again, even wider than before. Dúvainiel could hear a roaring waterfall in the distance, one that they seemed to be headed towards. By the time the roar became a thunder to her sensitive ears, Aragorn had led the group of boats to shore.

Everyone began to empty the boats, and the second Dúvainiel stepped foot on the land, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She was starting to get wary of that feeling already. She looked at Legolas, wondering if he felt it too. From the concerned look on his face, she guessed that he had.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north," Aragorn told the group.

"Oh, yes?!" Gimli cut in, "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!"

Dúvainiel would have laughed at the alarmed look on poor Pippin's face, had the situation not been so serious.

But the Dwarf wasn't done, "Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!"

Aragorn gave him a tired look, "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Dúvainiel grinned at Aragorn's words, while Gimli stuttered over his words.

"Recover my… grrrr"

Dúvainiel glanced at Legolas as she heard him speak to Aragorn in a low tone, "We should leave now."

"No," Aragorn replied firmly, "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

Legolas was insistent, "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can feel it!"

Silently, Dúvainiel agreed with Legolas, but she knew Aragorn had made up his mind. They would not be leaving until nightfall.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Merry return to the area with wood for the fire.

"Where's Frodo?" he asked.

Sam jumped up from his spot where he'd been resting, as everyone looked around.

"Spread out," Aragorn said.

Dúvainiel pulled out her sword and began searching for Frodo. Everyone went in separate directions, and it made her nervous. Evil was close. Too close.

"Frodo?" she called in a quiet voice.

Her muscles tensed as she heard the sound of swords clashing, and she took off in a sprint towards them.

She heard someone growl out, "Find the Halfling! Grrr! Find the Halfling!"

Then she heard Legolas, "Aragorn, go!"

She was getting closer now. How far had she gone? Finally she came upon them, the group of ugly Uruk-Hai. She had the advantage of coming from behind, and she pulled her sword back, and cut one down. Then another.

They saw her then, and some of them turned on her. One after another they came. There were so many! She sliced her way through them, one by one. They began running in the opposite direction, and Dúvainiel knew she had to find Frodo. Above all else, she must keep the Ring safe in his hands. She ran through the woods, in the direction of the Uruk-Hai, but far enough away from them that they did not notice her. She was totally focused on finding Frodo. She kept running for the front of the group of Uruk-Hai. Where were they leading? Did they already have Frodo?

Suddenly she heard the sound of a horn. Was it Boromir's horn? She turned directions slightly and moved towards it as it sounded again. She ran into the Uruk-Hai once more, and using her sword, began to make her a path through them.

Must find Frodo, she thought as she defended herself. Just then an arm came around her neck and jerked her backwards. Her sword fell from her hand and the Uruk-Hai whispered in her ear, "What a pretty little thing."

Her hand grasped towards her belt, and she felt for her dagger. Clutching it, she held tightly until he turned her around. Then she pushed the dagger into his stomach. The movement took him by surprise and he let her loose. She fell to her knees and grabbed her sword, and turned it upwards and into him as he attacked her again. She shook him off and pulled her sword out of him. Then she turned back to the rest of the group, most of which were either already dead on the ground, or had run.

She followed the path of death until she found Legolas and Gimli finishing off a small group. The three of them moved together in the same direction and came across Aragorn and Boromir.

Dúvainiel gasped.

Boromir lay on the ground, three arrows stuck in his body, his eyes closed, his chest not moving.

He was dead.

"They will look for his coming from the White Tower," Aragorn said. "But he will not return."

Dúvainiel felt tears falling across her cheeks. Legolas put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. He looked so sad.

The four of them were silent for a time, and then Dúvainiel broke the silence.

"Aragorn? What of Frodo?" She reminded him.

"Frodo has left," Aragorn replied, looking at the group as he sheathed his sword. "It is the other Hobbits that are in danger now. The Uruk-Hai have taken them." Dúvainiel, Legolas, and Gimli walked over to him, and as he handed Legolas Boromir's sword, Dúvainiel noticed the clear streak on his face where a tear had fallen. Her heart ached for his pain. They watched as he pulled the arrows out of the body, and then picked Boromir up and carried him towards the campsite. The others followed in silence.

When they arrived at the campsite, the first thing Dúvainiel noticed was that one of the boats had gone. She looked across the water and saw it. Frodo was not alone.

"Aragorn! Sam! Sam is with him!" she exclaimed.

Aragorn nodded his head approvingly as he laid Boromir on the ground. Dúvainiel cleaned the cut on Aragorn's arm, and wrapped it in a cloth, and then cleaned up his face. When she was done, she looked at the others, who seemed to be wound-free. Aragorn cleaned the wounds on Boromir, while the rest packed the supplies back up. He took the vambrances off Boromir's arms, and he and Legolas placed the body in a boat. Dúvainiel brought over Boromir's shield, and Gimli handed Aragorn the sword. Aragorn placed them in the boat with Boromir. Beside his body lay the Horn of Gondor, broken in half by an Uruk-Hai.

"I Melain berio le (_May the Valar keep you_)," Dúvainiel whispered as Aragorn pushed the boat out into the water.

Gimli stood by the water and watched until the boat moved over the edge of the falls. Dúvainiel's heart was too saddened to watch. She spent the time putting lembas in her pack.

"Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore," Legolas said as he pushed the last boat into the water. No one said anything and Legolas turned and looked at Aragorn, who was honoring Boromir, by putting on the vambrances. Aragorn then turned and looked at the Hobbits on the other side of the river and sighed.

"You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked, incredulous.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn answered. Dúvainiel couldn't believe what he was saying!

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli noted. "The Fellowship has failed."

"Not if we hold true to each other," Aragorn replied, placing his hand on Gimli's shoulder. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc!" Aragorn sheathed his dagger at his waist, and took off sprinting up the hill.

Legolas and Gimli grinned madly at each other, and sprinted after him.

Dúvainiel looked at them like they were all crazy.

"Stupid males," she said under her breath. "Not a one of them took anything but their weapons. I wonder what they plan on eating or sleeping on."

She shoved some extra lembas into her pack and then threw the bag over her shoulder. She looked around the campsite, rolled her eyes, then she took off in a sprint after the males.


	2. Two Towers A Rewrite Part 1

For three days they ran, stopping just long enough to catch their breath every once in a while. They had stopped to eat once on that first day, when Gimli found out that she carried lembas, but after running on a full stomach, he got sick, and that was the end of that idea.

Aragorn led the group at first, running far ahead of the elves, with the Dwarf some ways behind, taking up the rear.

"We shall make a chase, that will counted a marvel among the three kindreds," Aragorn had proclaimed.

The forested terrain fell away and in its place was left tall hills of rocks and yellowing grass. Dúvainiel came to the top of one of those hills, and found Aragorn laying on a rock with his ear to the ground.

"Their pace has quickened," he said. "They must have caught our scent." He stood up and shouted over his shoulder, "Hurry!" and then took off running again.

She heard Legolas call to Gimli, "Come on Gimli!" She turned to see just how far back he was, and briefly felt sorry for the bulky Dwarf.

As they kept running, the hills became mountainous and they ran along ridges. For a while, Legolas led the way, but as the mountain range seemed to end and the path they were taking became hilly again, Dúvainiel took the lead.

It was during her time in front that a piece of shiny metal caught her eye. She fell on her knees to the ground and picked it up. It was a leaf broach from one of the hobbit's cloaks!

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," she whispered. "Elessar!"

He ran up next to her and saw what she was holding. His eyes filled with hope.

"They may yet be alive," Legolas said, as he joined them.

Aragorn looked at the ground and took a few steps, "Less than a day ahead of us. Come!" He took off in a run, leading the way once again. Dúvainiel followed as she heard Legolas once again encouraging Gimli to move faster.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!"

His reply nearly made Dúvainiel laugh at loud. She might have, if she hadn't been running so hard.

"I am wasted on cross-country!" The Dwarf yelled, "We Dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

Up they went, and down, over each hill, gaining on the Uruk-Hai. Finally they came to the top of a ridge and Aragorn stopped and looked across the hilly, rocky plain. The Elves and Dwarf caught up to him. Dúvainiel knew Gimli would be able to catch his breath before they started again. She, too, looked across the plain and that dreaded feeling she got so often these days hit her hard.

"Rohan," Aragorn told them. "Home of the Horse Lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."

Legolas moved down the ridge a ways, and looked out at the horizon.

"Legolas," Aragorn called from the top of the ridge, "what do your Elf-eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" Legolas responded.

"Saruman."

The name whispered by Aragorn sent shivers up her spine, and then the group was off and running again. They covered miles and miles of the rocky terrain. As they climbed a particularly steep hill, Dúvainiel heard Gimli panting behind her.

"Keep breathing," she heard him say to himself. "That's the key. Breathe."

This time she did feel genuinely sorry for him. She wished they could stop for just a few minutes to let him catch his breath. She said nothing, but just kept running.

Legolas broke the silence a short time later, saying what she thought everyone else must be thinking as well, "They've run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them."

In the next few hours of the monotonous running, Dúvainiel could not count on both hands the times she wished that she could be sitting in a tree patrolling the borders of Lothlorien. She had never in her life been so glad to be an Elf. She wondered how Gimli and Aragorn had the stamina and ability to run for so long without a thorough rest.

Night fell for the third time since the Halflings had been taken, and still the group ran, and still poor Gimli struggled to keep up. They ran through the moonlit night, and as the sun was giving off its first night, Legolas paused and looked in the direction of its rise.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night," he said softly as Dúvainiel paused beside him and looked into his eyes. They ran a little further, when they all heard the thunder of hoof beats. Aragorn gestured them towards cover, and they waited and watched as a large group of horsemen rode past. Aragorn looked at the others, his expression contemplative, and then he decided. He stepped out and the others followed him.

"Riders of Rohan," he yelled. "What news from the Mark?"

Instantly upon hearing his voice, the entire group of horsemen turned and rode back, surrounding them and drawing their weapons, pointing them at what was left of the Fellowship. Aragorn held his hands up for them to see that he did not mean them any harm. Finally, one of them spoke.

"What business," he asked, "does a Man, two Elves, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?"

When they did not answer, he snapped at them. "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli responded.

The man dismounted and walked towards Gimli, as the other men lowered their weapons. Gimli stood a little taller, as if up to any challenge the stranger gave him. Aragorn set a hand on Gimli's shoulder.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

In the space of a second's time, Legolas had an arrow out of his quiver, drawn on his bow, pointed at then man who had made the threat to Gimli.

"You would die before your stroke fell," Legolas said confidently, ignoring the weapons of the men on horseback that had been pointed at their group once more. Aragorn reached over and pushed the bow and arrow down. Gimli and Dúvainiel both looked in shock at Legolas, Gimli with his mouth puckered in the shape of an "o".

He turned his attention back to the other man.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Dúvainiel of Lothlorien and Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

Dúvainiel noticed that Legolas was giving the man an extremely hateful look.

"We are friends of Rohan," Aragorn continued, "and of Th_e_oden, your king."

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," the man countered. "Not even, his own kin." He took his helmet off and the group surrounding them lowered their weapons once more.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands," the man explained. Legolas and Dúvainiel looked at each other at the mention of Saruman. "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished."

He then addressed each member of their group, making eye contact with each, starting with Aragorn, "The White Wizard is cunning."

He looked at Gimli, "He walks here and there, they say…"

To Legolas he said, "…as an old man hooded and cloaked."

Finally his eyes rested on Dúvainiel, "And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets."

Dúvainiel bristled at the insinuation. "We are no spies," she said vehemently.

"We track a party of Uruak-hai westward across the plain," Aragorn informed him. "They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," the man replied. "We slaughtered them during the night."

Gimli cut in, "But there were two Hobbits. Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn mentioned.

"We left none alive," the man told them. Then he pointed in the direction that they had ridden from, "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

Dúvainiel looked between two horsemen and caught sight of the smoke rising in the horizon. She felt sick to her stomach. "Dead?" she whispered.

The man nodded his head. "I am sorry," he said sincerely.

Legolas put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The man whistled. "Hasufel! Arod!" he called. Two horses stepped forward, a white one and a roan. The white one nuzzled Dúvainiel's cheek.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters," the man said. "Farewell."

He mounted his own white horse, then as if an afterthought looked down at the foursome, "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands."

"We ride north!" he called, and then led the group of horsemen away.

For a few moments, they stood in a silence, each seeming to dread searching for the hobbits' bodies. Then Aragorn mounted the roan and held his hand out to Gimli. Legolas followed suit on the white horse, and Dúvainiel was hoisted up into the saddle with him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and as she rode, she scolded herself for the wholly inappropriate thoughts she was having at a time like this. She couldn't help herself though, as she laid her head against his back, his quiver resting in the crook of her neck. Even after all that running, he still smelled so good. Like sandalwood and fir. It was comforting. They galloped across the plain, and Dúvainiel felt some measure of peace in listening to Legolas' heartbeat as they rode.

They came to the pile, and suddenly the fragrance in the air changed drastically. Dúvainiel felt nauseated at the stench of the burning flesh. The four of them dismounted and looked around the pile for any clues that might lead them to the answer of where the hobbits were. It was Gimli that turned up the first clue.

"One of their wee belts," he said, pulling it from the smoldering pile. Dúvainiel sat on the grass and pulled her knees to her chest, afraid that if she started to cry, she might never stop. Those poor, innocent little Hobbits. She laid her head down on her knees and closed her eyes. Legolas quietly said a prayer. Aragorn wondered a few steps away, kicked a helmet and then screamed in frustration and anger. He fell to his knees. .

"We failed them," Gimli said solemnly.

Dúvainiel and Legolas had both heard him, but Aragorn didn't. His attention was on the ground.

"A Hobbit lay here," he said softly, then brushed his hand on the ground. "And the other." He sat back on his heels, and looked closer at the ground. "They crawled," he said, as he mimicked the movement. Dúvainiel picked her head up and watched him. "Their hands were bound," he said as he stood and followed the tracks. Dúvainiel stood as well, and she followed Aragorn next to Legolas and Gimli. Each of them now hanging on every word Aragorn was saying.

"Their bonds were cut," he said when he came across a rope. He kept walking in odd directions and patterns, "They ran over here… they were followed." Aragorn began to run. "The tracks lead away from the battle!" The group was now running, following Aragorn, until he stopped and said, "…into Fangorn Forest."

Dúvainiel and Legolas looked at each other.

"Fangorn?" Gimli whispered. "What madness drove them in there?"

After many long moments, the foursome entered the forest. Following the tracks that Aragorn could find, they made their way deeper in.

Gimli came upon a plant with a substance on it, which he tasted, promptly spit out and proclaimed, "Orc blood!"

Dúvainiel and Legolas were both sensitive to the trees in the forest and both remained silent as they looked at the trees.

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn commented.

"The air is so close in here," said the Dwarf.

"This forest is old," Legolas told him. "Very old. Full of memory."

"And anger," Dúvainiel added. Legolas nodded his agreement.

Just then, the forest seemed to groan. Alarmed, Gimli drew his ax and looked around.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas said. He, Dúvainiel, and Aragorn all turned to look at Gimli.

"Gimli!" Aragorn said urgently. "Lower your ax."

The Dwarf did as he was told and put a hand up in surrender.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas told him.

"The elves began it," Dúvainiel commented. "Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

Gimli looked at her in disbelief, "Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about? Hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

Dúvainiel was not a bit amused by Gimli's disrespect of the trees. It was a stark reminder of why Elves and Dwarves generally didn't get along. She sniffed disdainfully at him and turned away.

Legolas took a few steps deeper into the forest, Aragorn close behind, when he suddenly turned to the man and said, "Aragorn, nad no ennas! (_Aragorn, something's out there_!)"

Aragorn stood next to Legolas and whispered to him, "Man cenich? (_What do you see_?)"

Dúvainiel, too, could feel the presence. She couldn't put her finger on what it was though, but it didn't feel threatening, which was why Legolas' next comment surprised her.

"The White Wizard approaches."

Gimli and Dúvainiel now stood with Aragorn and Legolas, and Legolas jerked his head in the direction of the wizard.

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn whispered. "He will put a spell on us."

The four of them each pulled out a weapon, slowly. Legolas had notched an arrow in his bow while Gimli was ready with his ax. Aragorn had pulled out his sword, and Dúvainiel had pulled a dagger from her waist belt.

"We must be quick," Aragorn told them, and then the four of them turned in the direction of the wizard. A bright light blinded them, but it did not stop Legolas from shooting his bow or Gimli and Dúvainiel from throwing their weapons. Each offensive weapon bounced off the wizard's staff, as Aragorn's sword sizzled in his hands and he dropped it.

They each shielded their eyes from the bright light as the wizard began speaking to them.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits."

"Where are they?" Aragorn asked

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

It didn't comfort Dúvainiel, and she was prepared to say so, until Aragorn interrupted her.

"Who are you?" he asked. When he did not receive an answer, he demanded, "Show yourself!"

The light fell away, and Dúvainiel's eyes focused on the wizard's face. The instant she recognized him, she gasped and fell to her knee, her eyes dropped to the ground. She was shocked.

"It cannot be," she heard Aragorn say.

Beside her, Legolas also went to his knee. "Forgive me," he said. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I _am_ Saruman," the wizard responded. Dúvainiel looked up at him, and she saw him look at her. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

Aragorn took a step forward. "But you fell," he said.

"Through fire," Gandalf replied, "and water." He made eye contact with Dúvainiel again, and her eyes became unfocused as he took her back on his journey with him. She felt herself fall, falling like there was no end. Felt the heat of the Balrog. Her hands blistered and she gasped in pain. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me." Dúvainiel felt the cold of the snow. She wished that she could close her eyes away from the wizard. "And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth." The stars swirled in her sight and she felt nauseous. "But it was not the end. I felt life in me again." She gasped here, as if life was entering her again as well. "I've been sent back until my task is done."

The wizard looked away from her, breaking the spell, and still feeling nauseous, she bent from her spot on the forest floor and retched. Legolas was immediately at her side.

"Gandalf." She heard Aragorn say.

"Gandalf?" the wizard asked. Dúvainiel dared to look up at him again. "Yes… that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

Gandalf grinned as Aragorn nodded at him. Dúvainiel's stomach stopped churning and Legolas helped her to stand.

"I am Gandalf the White," the wizard told them. Dúvainiel smiled at this. Her wizard had returned to them. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

He reached his hands out to Dúvainiel, and she placed her finger tips in his. Instantly, the blisters disappeared. She looked into his face, and her eyes filled with tears of happiness.

"Gandalf!" she exclaimed happily, and threw herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her and held her comforting, as he would a child. Then patting her back, he whispered softly.

"We must go now."

She let go and backed away from him, as he pulled his cloak around his shoulders. Then he led them back through the forest.

As they walked, Aragorn told Gandalf of the journey since he had left them- how Dúvainiel came to join them, Boromir's death, and Frodo's leaving the Fellowship.

"One stage of your journey is over," Gandalf told them, "another begins. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli asked in disbelief. "That is no short distance!"

"We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the king," Aragorn commented.

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured." No one was really surprised that Gandalf knew of the king's infirmity.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli said. "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested..."

Dúvainiel gave Gimli a hateful look as the trees groaned once again. She shook her head at him. Dwarves would never understand the importance or the value of the life of the forests.

"I mean charming…" he amended, looking around at the forest around him. "Quite charming, forest."

Dúvainiel rolled her eyes. Gandalf turned and looked at Gimli. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

Aragorn grinned at the wizard, "In one thing you have not changed my friend." Gandalf leaned towards Aragorn questioningly. "You still speak in riddles."

Gandalf and Aragorn both chuckled at Aragorn's assessment. Dúvainiel couldn't have agreed more, though she knew the wizard would never change. Nor would she want him to.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days," he told them. "The Ents are going to wake up." At this, Legolas and Dúvainiel looked at each other, astonished. "And find that they are strong."

Dúvainiel looked around at the forest trees and grinned.

"Strong?!" Came Gimli's skepticism. The trees groaned once more. "Oh," he changed his mind quickly as he looked at the trees, "that's good."

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf," Gandalf told him. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

Dúvainiel was not comforted at all by his comment. Merry and Pippin, she knew, were indeed safe, if that was Gandalf's word. It was the rest of them that she was concerned about. She shared a look with Legolas as the wizard stepped out of the forest.

"This new Gandalf's more grumpy than the old one," she heard Gimli comment under his breath.

They stepped out of the dark forest and into the sunlight. The horses grazed a short distance, and Aragorn walked over to them, and pulled them back to the group. Gandalf whistled, a high pitch at first, then a lower one. In the distance, they heard a neigh and each turned to see a pure white horse galloping towards them. As the animal got closer, Dúvainiel realized what the horse was. She reached over to Legolas and grasped him on his forearm.

"That is one of the Mearas," he said, "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

The horse came to a stop in front of Gandalf, and the wizard reached out to touch him.

"Shadowfax," he said. "He's the lord of all horses and he's been my friend through many dangers."

The horse turned towards the Elves, and Dúvainiel smiled.

"Gandalf? May I approach him?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied.

She stepped forward with her arm out stretched. The horse stepped towards her and met her halfway, placing his nose into the palm of her hand in acceptance. She bowed her head at him. He was so beautiful!

"Dúvainiel," she heard Legolas call to her. She turned and saw that he was already sitting on their horse, Aragorn and Gimli on theirs as well. Shadowfax took a step back as Gandalf prepared to mount, and Legolas held his hand out to Dúvainiel.

Once they were ready, Gandalf and Shadowfax led the way, and Dúvainiel felt her heart content to sit behind Legolas, drinking in his scent, knowing that the little Halflings were safe, and that Gandalf had come back to them. She felt relaxed and at peace, and ready for whatever fate held for them in Edoras.

They galloped across the plains for the rest of the day, until dusk settled upon them and Gandalf slowed Shadowfax and then stopped.

"We will make camp here tonight," the wizard told them.

Dúvainiel hopped down off the horse and stretched her legs. It had been a long time since she had spent so much time in a saddle. Legolas pulled the saddle off Arod, and the horse whinnied and trotted away to graze. She took her pack off and pulled out some lembas, passing it around to each of them. Gimli gave her appreciative look, despite what had happened the last time she handed him some.

Dúvainiel wished that there was a river or creek close by. Some place to bathe would be nice. Shadowfax snorted in her ear, and she turned and smiled at him, nuzzling his soft muzzle with her nose. Softly, she kissed the velvet nose. He nudged her shoulder and then turned from her, trotting a few steps away and then turned to look at her. Clearly, he wanted her to follow him, so she did.

He led her away from the camp site and into an area of trees, where they came across a small creek. She smiled at the horse and bowed her head to him.

"Shadowfax, rim hennaed! (_Many thanks, Shadowfax_!)," she called to the horse as he trotted back from the way they came. She undressed, and sat on a rock in the middle of the water. She washed her clothes first, and then hung them on a tree. While they were drying, she unplaited her hair and then laid on her back in the water. The water trickled over her ears and her hair moved back and forth with the movement. She sighed in contentment, as she felt the water wash away the dirt from her body. She opened her eyes and looked up at the trees. They seemed to be singing to her, as the branches and leaves carried the breeze, and she smiled.

By the time she got out of the water, the breeze had dried her clothes, and she put them on once more. She returned to the campsite, which was now quiet, but for Gimli's snoring. Legolas sat on a rock, watching her return.

"Feel better?" he asked her, noticing her wet hair.

"I do," she replied.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Dúvainiel swallowed.

"Would you like me to show you where the creek is?"

He nodded, and she led the way. When they arrived, he sat down on a rock and pulled off his boots. She turned to leave him in privacy, but he stood and grabbed her arm.

"Dúvainiel," he whispered.

She looked into his blue eyes, and her heart melted.

"Would you stay and keep me company?"

If he had asked her to step off a cliff with him, she knew she would not say no. He let go of her arm, and as he walked over to the creek, he pulled his top off. Dúvainiel blushed and turned her back to him.

"Uh… tell me about Mirkwood, Legolas," she said.

"It used to be called 'Greenwood'," he replied. "named by my grandfather, Oropher. He settled a group of Elves there, before the first War of the Ring. It was once a beautiful place, one of the most beautiful forests in Middle Earth. The trees there are ancient and tall- birch and fir mostly. The Elves lived there in peace until Sauron returned. He came in secret and built himself a stronghold at Amon Lanc, which is now known as the Hill of Black Magic. A shadow fell across the forest and has remained that way since. Evil creatures came, including giant spiders. My people were forced to abandon the Mountains of Mirkwood when they became infested with these creatures."

She turned to look at him, and saw him sitting in the water, facing away from her. She saw the muscles in his back flex and unflex as he washed his skin. She swallowed, and turned back around quickly.

"When this is all over, and Sauron is defeated, it is my greatest wish for the greatness of Greenwood to return."

She heard him stand and walk out of the creek.

"I would like to see that happen as well," she said softly.

His hand touched her shoulder and she turned to look at him. He had pulled his pants on, but he was carrying his shirt.

"My heart would sing, should you come to see my home."

She reached up and moved a lock of his wet hair behind his shoulder, and then set her hand on his bare skin. She smiled at him. He moved closer.

"Legolas!" They heard Aragorn call.

Dúvainiel jumped, startled by the interruption.

"Another time, perhaps," Legolas whispered to her. Then he stepped away, pulled his shirt over his head, and sprinted back to the campsite.

Dúvainiel stood and watched him, her heart was pounding and she had to make an effort to slow her heavy breathing.

Another time, indeed.

She returned to the campsite behind him.

Early the next morning, before the sun rose, she was up and ready to go again. How could anyone sleep through Gimli's snoring? She had already plaited her long brown hair, and packed her things back into her pack. She sat on a rock and watched the horses graze close by. She knew the males would be awake soon, and they didn't disappoint her. Within a short time, the horses were saddled, and they were riding again.

She had her arms wrapped tight around his waist as they rode. At one point, she felt him lay one of his forearms across hers, and he stroked her skin with his fingers. She smiled to herself. He moved his hand back to the reins, and she squeezed her arms a little tighter around him. Finally Edoras came into view, and the horses stopped. They looked at the hilltop city.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf told them. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

He nudged Shadowfax, and they continued up to the city. Gandalf led the way through the gates and up the road toward the Hall. The city was completely silent as they passed.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli commented. Dúvainiel silently agreed with him.

They stopped at the steps of the Hall, and dismounted. As a group, they climbed the stairs, but when they got to the top, they were stopped by guards.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue," one of them said.

Gandalf nodded, and turned to the others, signaling that they were to release their weapons to the guards. Legolas and Aragorn did so without hesitation, but Dúvainiel and Gimli were both reluctant. Of course, she carried some daggers in hidden places beneath her clothes, and she wasn't about to surrender them, but she did hand the guard her sword, bow and quiver, and the dagger from her waist belt.

"Your staff," the guard said to Gandalf.

Gandalf looked at the guard, complete innocence written all over his face, "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

The guard knew exactly what Gandalf was doing, Dúvainiel could tell, but he let them enter the Hall anyways. Legolas walked alongside Gandalf, arm in arm as though supporting the wizard. Dúvainiel walked behind them, and Gimli and Aragorn followed in the back.

The guard led them into the Hall and bowed to the king sitting on the throne. Dúvainiel immediately felt the evil within the hall as soon as she entered it. She looked at the king, who looked frail and old. Beside the king, a man in black kneeled over and whispered in his ear. The doors were shut behind them, and all but Gandalf turned to look as they heard multiple locks being set.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf said, as he walked towards the throne. The rest of the group followed behind, backing off just a little. From the corner of her eye, Dúvainiel noticed a group of men walking with them up the side of the Hall. Their expressions were menacing.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" the frail king said.

"A just question my liege," Dúvainiel heard the man in black say. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." He stood from his place beside the king and walked towards Gandalf. "Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent," Gandalf commanded. "Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"

Gandalf placed his staff in the man's face and instantly, the cocky expression the man had held disappeared.

"His staff," he said as he backed away from Gandalf. "I told you to take the wizard's staff."

The guards rushed towards Gandalf, and the rest of the group took action. Dúvainiel's palm slammed into one guard's nose, throwing him off his feet. A second guard came toward her and she reached back her arm to strike him, when Aragorn ran forward and punched the guard in the stomach. As quickly as it had started, it was over, and the guards were laid out on the floor. Gimli growled, and she looked over at him as he placed his foot on the chest of the man in black, who was now laying on the floor.

"I would stay still, if I were you."

Dúvainiel turned her attention to Gandalf, who addressed the king, "Hearken to me! I release you from the spell." His fingers gestured towards the king.

There was a moment of silence, and then the king began to laugh. Dúvainiel felt shivers run up her spine at the sound. It was a humorless and deadly laugh.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!"

Gandalf pulled the grey cloak off and revealed the blinding white that lay underneath. The king was thrown back against his seat.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," Gandalf said as he pointed his staff in the direction of the king. From the side of the room, a woman rushed in and ran towards the king. Aragorn caught her and told her to wait.

The king's mouth opened, but a new voice was heard, "If I go. . . Théoden dies." Dúvainiel stiffened at the sound of Saruman's voice.

Gandalf jerked his staff towards the king again, "You did not kill me, you will not kill him!"

Saruman addressed Gandalf again, "Rohan is mine!"

One last time, Gandalf thrust his staff towards the king and the king was thrown back again. He moaned and the woman broke free from Aragorn and rushed to his side, grasping him as he leaned forward and nearly fell from the throne. Théoden looked up at the woman, and Dúvainiel watched, astonished as he face changed, and his eyes cleared. He looked much younger now.

"I know your face," he finally said to the woman. "Éowyn… Éowyn"

Éowyn looked at the king with tears in her eyes. Théoden turned his attention to his audience and seemed surprised to see Gandalf.

"Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said to him.

Éowyn helped the king to stand. He looked around as Gandalf stepped back, and the Rohan citizens in the Hall bowed to their king.

"Dark have been my dreams of late," he said. He looked at his hands as though they were foreign. Dúvainiel noticed that they were trembling.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf suggested.

The guard who had led them into the hall brought the sword forth to his king, and Théoden reached out to grasp it. He drew the sword and gazed at the steel. Then he turned his attention to the traitor in his hall.

Gimli had a firm grip on the man, who trembled at the sight of his angry king.

"Háma, throw him out of my Hall," he ordered his guard.

Háma and another guard immediately obeyed and the group followed to watch as the man was carried out of the hall and thrown down the steps.

Dúvainiel stood at the top next to Éowyn and they watched as the man groveled to the king.

"I have only ever served you, my lord!"

Théoden descended the stairs, sword in hand, toward the man.

"Your leechcraft," the king said, "would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your side," the man continued to beg.

Théoden raised his sword over his head, about to strike, when Aragorn grabbed his arm.

"No my lord," he said. "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Dúvainiel looked at Legolas, surprised by Aragorn's public questioning of the king's actions. Legolas shrugged. Aragorn reached a hand out to the man who was still on the ground. The man pulled himself up, and spit in the offered hand. Dúvainiel scrunched her nose. What a disgusting man! He turned and pushed his way through the crowd of people who had gathered and watched.

"Get out of my way!" He hollered at them.

It was silent for a moment, and someone called out to the citizens of Edoras, "Hail Théoden, King!"

The people who had gathered all went to their knees, the guards on the steps bowed their heads, and Aragorn knelt at the king's side. Dúvainiel bowed her head in respect.

The king turned and looked at the group who had followed him out of the hall.

"Where is Théodred? Where is my son?" he asked.

Éowyn left Dúvainiel's side and went down to the king. "My lord," she said softly. "He is dead."

"Dead? How? When?"

Éowyn grasped the king's arm, and they walked back up to the hall together. Dúvainiel looked at Gandalf, whose eyes were solemn.

Later that afternoon, Dúvainiel was escorted by Háma to Éowyn's chambers. Dúvainiel had asked to see Éowyn, to see if there was anything she could do to help. The woman's grief radiated off of her strongly. Éowyn sat on a window seat, her long blonde hair blowing from the breeze. She was, to Dúvainiel's surprise, alone. She wore a black dress with a grey collar imprinted with the horse symbol of Rohan.

"My lady," Dúvainiel called to her softly.

Éowyn turned from the window and looked at her. Dúvainiel could see that she had been crying.

"My name is Dúvainiel. I came to see if I could help you."

Éowyn nodded her head slowly. "I can't seem to get…" she stopped speaking when the anguish took over her and she began sobbing and Dúvainiel walked over to her and put her arms around her. She let the woman cry, and comforted her as best as she could. Finally, Éowyn sniffled and pulled herself away from the elleth. "My hair," she told Dúvainiel, handing over the circlet that had been sitting in her lap.

Dúvainiel moved behind the woman and placed the circlet on her head. She twisted the long hair into an intricate pattern, weaving it into and out of the circlet. When she finished, she stepped back to inspect her work. Éowyn was a beautiful woman, no doubt. She touched the woman's shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

"He was my cousin," Éowyn said to her. Dúvainiel was silent. Having not had much experience with death, she didn't know what to say to the grieving woman that would help. "Thank you," Éowyn reached up to feel her hair and then stood and crossed the room, where she pulled a black scarf from the wardrobe.

Dúvainiel bowed at her and returned to her room, where she changed from her tunic into the green dress she had brought. She was thankful that she had thought to bring it, although a death ceremony was the last place she had expected to wear it. She brushed the plait out of her hair and placed her own circlet on top. She left the room and headed to the hall to look for the rest of her group.

Gimli was the first to see her, and his mouth opened in a wide "O". She smiled softly.

"Lle naa vanima (_You are beautiful_)," Legolas whispered when he walked up to her. She blushed prettily. Legolas took her arm and led her to a table to sit and wait for the ceremony to begin.

Éowyn came into the hall and looked around. When she saw Dúvainiel, she walked over and asked the elleth to join her. Dúvainiel could not refuse. She nodded to Legolas, and followed Éowyn out the door and down the stairs. Together with the women of the court, she and Éowyn walked down the hill silently. Crowds gathered on each side of the path, all of them dressed in black, to pay honor and mourn their fallen prince. Dúvainiel looked back towards the hall and saw the guards carrying the body of the prince. There was so much pain.

The tomb was open and Éowyn stood to one side of it. Dúvainiel stood beside her and noticed that her hands were shaking. Women of the court stood around and behind them. Dúvainiel watched as the procession made its way down the hill. When the guards had brought the body to where it was in front of Éowyn, she began to sing.

_Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended (__An evil death has set forth the noble warrior__)  
__giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende (__A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels_)_  
__on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære (__in Meduseld that he is no more__)  
__his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost. (__to his lord dearest and kinsmen most beloved_.)_  
__Bealo... (__An evil death._..)

She stopped singing as she began to sob. Dúvainiel turned to her and hugged her; her heart ached for the grieving woman. The body was in the tomb now, and the guards pulled the stone shut. The only sound that could be heard was the crying from many of the citizens of Edoras. People started to return to their homes, and Dúvainiel escorted Éowyn back up to the hall and then to Éowyn's room, where Éowyn thanked her and then said she wanted to be alone. Dúvainiel bowed and returned to her own room where she changed out of the dress and back into the tunic and leggings that she was much more comfortable in. She placed the dress and circlet back in her bag. Then she returned to the hall, where she had hoped to find Legolas, and indeed, found him there, standing behind Aragorn, as if guarding him.

Aragorn and Gimli were eating when she entered the hall and they both stood as she approached the table. She sat beside Aragorn's spot and Aragorn and Gimli sat once again. Legolas sat next to her, and when she looked at him, he had a thoroughly amused expression. He reached up and picked up a lock of her hair and wiggled it in front of her face. She had just left it down, instead of plaiting it again. She grinned at him when he let it go. Turning her attention to the table, she was pleasantly surprised to see a small plate of food set in front of her. It was nice to have a meal, even if it wasn't Elvish.

She finished eating, and stood to speak with Legolas, who had returned to his self-imposed position as Aragorn's guard. Aragorn seemed oblivious to his "guard", as he pulled out his pipe and lit it. Just then, the doors to the hall opened, and the king came in, followed by Gandalf, and Háma, who was carrying a young boy. A little girl walked beside them.

Éowyn came into the hall and saw the children. She gestured for Háma to bring the boy to her. He was awake, but very weak. The little girl did not leave the boy's side. Food was brought for the children and Éowyn helped feed them. The three of them spoke in low tones.

Éowyn turned to her uncle who was now sitting on the throne with his head in his hand, "Their villiage was attacked by Dunlanders. They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree." Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a look.

"Where's mama?" the little girl asked between bites.

"Shh," Éowyn responded as she put a blanket over the child's shoulders.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf told the king from the chair next to the throne. "All the more potent, for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn mentioned. "Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

Gandalf looked curiously at Aragorn as the king stood and took a few steps around the hall and then addressed Aragorn's comment.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us." Gandalf stood and stepped towards the king. "I know what it is that you want of me," Théoden said, turning his attention back to Gandalf. "But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Dúvainiel watched the exchange interestedly.

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn pointed out.

Théoden took a couple steps towards Aragorn, the anger etched in his face now, "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan."

Dúvainiel bristled at his tone, but Aragorn did not respond. Gimli, who was still eating, took a drink and then belched. Dúvainiel looked at him in disgust.

"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asked.

Théoden was silent for a moment, and finally he turned and looked at Gandalf, "We will retreat to Helm's Deep."

Legolas gestured to Dúvainiel, and she followed him out of the hall. He led her to the stables, and they sat down together in an empty stall.

"What are we going to do?" Dúvainiel asked.

"Whatever Aragorn asks of us," Legolas replied.

Dúvainiel sighed. "We're going to Helm's Deep with them, aren't we?"

He nodded his head at her. Théoden's idea was not a good one. She could feel it in her soul.

"Me, too," he said.

She looked into his eyes, and he put his hand on cheek. Leaning over, he softly kissed her on the lips. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss. For a moment in time, there was no one else, no impending war, no Ring- only them. She pulled away, just enough to end the contact, and then leaned her forehead against his.

"Legolas," she whispered as she closed her eyes. She smelled his scent on his clothes and felt the comfort of his presence. She laid down in the soft bed of hay and he laid beside her. He kissed her again, softer than before, and then wrapped his arms around her. She smiled at him. They lay in each others' arms for some time, until they fell asleep, a peaceful sleep together that they would not have again for a while, each of them knew.

It was light out when she woke.

"Legolas," she nudged him. His eyes snapped open and he sat up. He pulled her up and they stood and looked at each other. He smiled at her and caressed her cheek once more, and then kissed her softly on the lips for what Dúvainiel felt would be the last time. He bowed his head to her and then left the stable.

A neigh caught her attention, and she looked at the back of the stable, where Shadowfax stood watching her.

"Shadowfax," she said happily and walked over to his stall. The white stallion pushed his soft nose into her hand, and she stroked his head for a moment and then stepped into the stall with him. She grabbed a brush that was hanging on the wall, and brushed him down, murmuring to him in low elvish tones, as the two of them listened to the sounds from outside. There was quite a bit of movement this morning. They were preparing to leave, Dúvainiel knew.

She looked up as the stable door opened and Gandalf and Aragorn walked in, followed by Legolas and Gimli.

"There is no way out of that ravine," she heard Gandalf say. "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will but I fear for him." He stopped at the stall door and turned to Aragorn. "I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defences HAVE to hold."

"They will hold," Aragorn said confidently.

Gandalf turned to Shadowfax and put a hand on his mane, "The Grey Pilgrim... that's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time." He walked around the front of the horse and then mounted him. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

"Noro go hûl, Shadowfax (_Run with the wind, Shadowfax_)," she whispered as she stepped away from the horse. She looked at Gandalf's face, but couldn't find it in her to say good-bye to him. He nodded. He understood.

"Go," Aragorn said, as he held the stall doors open. Gandalf nudged the stallion, and they galloped out of the stable and away from Edoras. Dúvainiel swallowed hard, then returned to the hall to collect her things and help the people prepare for the journey.

TBC


	3. Two Towers A Rewrite Part 2

Before the noon meal, they began the journey to Helm's Deep. Dúvainiel walked down the steps of the hall and found Legolas waiting for her. He was holding the reins of two horses- the white gelding, Arod, that they had been using and a solid black mare. He handed over the reins to the black horse.

"This is Ésha," he told her. "King Théoden wishes for you to ride her."

She took the reins from him, smiling, though she was a little sad that she would not be able to ride with him during this journey. She pulled the reins over the mare's head and moved to the left side to mount. Legolas put his hands on either side of her waist and helped her up, even though they both knew she didn't need the help. She smiled down at him, and then watched as he got on the white horse. They walked the horses through the throngs of citizens on the path, ready to leave their homes. When they reached the outer gates, Aragorn and Gimli were waiting for them.

"Gimli is to ride with you, Legolas," Aragorn said, then helped the dwarf up behind the ellon. Dúvainiel felt a surge of jealousy. Being with Legolas was _her_ place. She turned away and walked her horse to the front of the group, where the king was ready to ride. How utterly ridiculous for her to be jealous of a _Dwarf._ Aragorn and Legolas rode up with the king as well, and the group began to move forward.

"King Théoden," she said, "I thank you for the use of this fine horse."

He nodded an acknowledgment to her, and then she moved her horse to Aragorn's side. The group moved silently, solemnly, as they crossed the distance between Edoras and Helm's Deep. Dúvainiel looked back once, at the long line of walkers, many elderly or children. The line of them stretched far, and Dúvainiel sighed and turned forward once more.

"What bothers you, Dúvainiel?" Aragorn asked.

"Amin dele ten' sen, (_I am worried about them_)," she answered. They were so vulnerable out there in the middle of nowhere.

"Uuma ma' ten' rashwe Dúvainiel, ta tuluva a' lle (_Don't look for trouble Dúvainiel, it will come to you_)," he replied.

She looked at his face, "That's what worries me." She nudged her horse forward a little and looked out across the plain, watching for any sign of danger. It was quiet. Too quiet.

The rest of the day passed that way, until the king stopped for the night, so that his people could rest. She found herself a quiet spot on the edge of the campsite and laid her stuff out. Her horse wandered away, grazing. She lay down and stared up at the stars, lulled by the sounds of the people. She felt far from home. Suddenly, Legolas's face blocked her view of the sky and she smiled up at him. He looked at her, concerned.

"May I join you?" he asked.

"Tancave (_Certainly_)."

He laid his things down beside hers and made a bed near her and sat on it.

"I was just thinking of home," she told him. "For many long years, I have wished to be able to leave the woods of Lothlorien to see Middle Earth." She looked at him, "This isn't what I had in mind."

He smiled, "Home does seem very far away right now."

She looked back at the stars, "It's a clear night."

He laid down on the blanket that he had been sitting on and looked at the stars.

"Elentari smiles on us."

"Yes, she does," Dúvainiel replied.

Long into the night, they continued their discussion of the Lady of the Heavens, until the camps around them fell silent and the campfires burned out. Finally, Legolas reached over and took her hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it softly, and she smiled at him.

"Quel du, Legolas, (_Good night, Legolas_)" she whispered.

"Quel du."

She looked back to the heavens and smiled, then closed her eyes and fell asleep.

The next morning, they set out early. Legolas rode in the front so that he could watch for danger. For a while, Dúvainiel rode next to Aragorn, who rode with Théoden. Gimli rode by himself, on a horse led by Éowyn.

"It's true you don't see many Dwarf women," she heard Gimli tell Éowyn as they walked. "And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."

Dúvainiel was not surprised to hear him say this. Éowyn turned to look at Aragorn, as if to confirm what Gimli had said.

"It's the beards," he whispered to her.

Dúvainiel gave a very un-elf-like snort.

Gimli continued, "And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women. And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

Éowyn laughed out loud.

"Which of course is ridiculous… whoa!"

The horse Gimli was on became spooked and Éowyn lost her grip on the reins as it broke away from her. Gimli lost his balance, and promptly fell to the ground. Éowyn ran to him to help him, and he spluttered, "It's alright, it's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate."

Dúvainiel laughed and nudged her horse to a trot, and rode ahead to join Legolas. Two sets of elf eyes were better than one, after all.

She pulled the horse to a walk once she was next to him. As they rode along, Legolas told her stories of the Elves in Mirkwood. His voice was soothing and calm. She loved listening to him speak.

The day wore on, and travel was slow. They had to stop several times during the day to let the older people and the children rest. Still, they had not encountered any trouble on their path, and while Dúvainiel was grateful, she was also guarded.

The king called for a stop to the day, and the walkers set up their camp sites. She rode ahead to a nearby ridge and pulled her horse to a stop when she reached the top. From where she was, she would see trouble coming from many miles ahead. Her keen eyes swept over the land, and satisfied with the emptiness of the plain, she turned to check on the members of her group.

Gimli, she saw, had found his way to a campfire, where he laid his bedding down and sat on it. She watched him as he pulled out a pipe, lit it, and smoked it while staring at the fire. She did not see Legolas.

Her eyes came to rest on Aragorn, and she looked intensely as she saw Éowyn speaking with him. It appeared that she had brought him some food, and from the expression on his face, he didn't seem to like it. She giggled, and turned her attention back out to the plain.

She heard the sound of hoof beats and turned to see Legolas riding towards her. He stopped beside her.

"Ta naa sedho (_It is quiet_)," he said, looking out at the plain.

"Ta naa," she agreed.

"I will watch for a while," he told her. "You should get some rest."

"Will you join me later?"

"I will find you," he said.

She walked Ésha near Aragorn's camp site, and dismounted. She took off the saddle and tack and the horse walked away to graze. She turned to Aragorn, who was smoking his pipe and staring into his fire.

"Elessar, lle tyava quel? (_Do you feel well_?)" She asked.

She seemed to have startled him, as he looked up from the fire. "I'm fine, Dúvainiel."

"May I join you?"

He gestured for her to sit, and she did. They spoke quietly for a while, about Helm's Deep and what was to come. Then the conversation turned to Rivendell and Elrond. She looked deep into his eyes and let him take her to what was in his heart.

"Edra le men, men na guil edwen. Haer o auth a nîr a naeth (_You have a chance for another life. Away from war... grief... despair_)," she saw him tell Arwen.

"She will not go to Valinor," Dúvainiel said, pulling back from his thoughts. "No matter what her father says."

Aragorn gave her a doubtful look.

"Re mela lle, (_She loves you_)," Dúvainiel said, smiling at his reaction. "Call it… elleth intuition."

She saw Legolas riding towards them and smiling again at Aragorn, she bid him good night.

"Quel du, Elessar."

She got up and walked back over to her area, and she and Legolas laid together, as they had done the night before. Again they spoke in hushed tones, though this night, he did most of the talking as he told her stories of the constellations that his father had told him when he was an elfling. Again, he bid her good night with a kiss on her hand, and her heart sang as she fell asleep.

The next day, Dúvainiel woke with a nervous feeling. The group was still moving slowly. She walked most of the morning in front with Legolas, Ésha's reins loose in her hands. Often, she would look back at the group. Gimli was walking today as well, carrying Arod's reins. Aragorn, she noticed with interest, walked with Éowyn. Éowyn seemed to be quite taken with Aragorn. Dúvainiel felt sorry for her- in the end, her heart would be broken. She knew he would not be able to give himself to her. His heart belonged to Evenstar.

They reached the top of a hill, and Legolas stopped. A prickling sensation came over Dúvainiel, and she pulled her bow off her back.

"Mani naa ta? (_What is it?_)" She whispered.

"Rashwe, (_Trouble_,)" he replied.

Two of Théoden's men rode ahead of them as they stood watching for the danger that they were feeling. The men rode over a hill and Dúvainiel heard their horses neigh. Just then, she heard one of the men cry out, and Legolas sprinted into action. Growls could be heard, and she mounted Ésha, and prodded the horse towards Legolas.

"A scout!" Legolas called to her when he saw her reach the top of the hill.

She wheeled Ésha around, and galloped back to the group and hollered to Aragorn.

"Wargs! We are under attack!"

The citizens of Edoras became panicked.

"Get them out of here," yelled Aragorn.

"All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden cried.

The group charged forward, and as they came to the top of the hill, Legolas turned and saw them coming and he reached out for Arod's breast plate strap and pulled himself onto the horse's back as the horse galloped by with Gimli.

Dúvainiel pulled an arrow out of her quiver and shot at the group of wargs now charging toward them. The warg fell. The two groups continued to charge until they met each other with a crash. Dúvainiel pulled a second arrow out and shot an orc. Just as she was notching another arrow, a warg crashed into the side of Ésha and the horse fell. Dúvainiel had an arrow in one hand and her bow in the other and had been holding on to the horse with her legs, but as the horse fell, so did she. Her bow went flying from her hands as she hit her head hard against a rock.

She rolled over on her hands and knees and shook her head, dazed. She looked up just in time to see an orc charging towards her, and she stood quickly and pulled out her sword. Metal hit against metal as she swung her sword to meet the orc's. Another swing and then another, until she dodged a blow, and struck him down. She looked around for another, but saw that there were no more. She picked up her bow from where she had dropped it and looked around.

Many of Théoden's men and their horses lay on the ground dead, beside the dead wargs and orcs. She was relieved to see that Legolas and Théoden were both all right. And the Dwarf, too, if she was being honest with herself.

"Aragorn?" she heard Legolas call. She looked around for the Ranger.

"Heh, heh, heh," they heard.

"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing," Gimli said, standing over the offending orc.

The orc looked at Gimli and grinned, "He's dead. Took a little tumble off the cliff."

Legolas grabbed the orc by the collar roughly. "You lie," he said angrily. The orc laughed once more, and then made a choking sound and died.

Dúvainiel looked at the orc in disgust, but her expression changed to shock when a sparkle from his hand caught her eye.

"Legolas," she whispered.

He looked up at her, and then followed her line of sight. He opened the hand, and inside lay the Evenstar pendant. Dúvainiel gasped and turned and ran to the edge of the cliff. She fell to her knees and looked down, searching desperately for any sign of Evenstar's love. Legolas came and stood by her, also looking down. It was a long way down to the river below. He couldn't possibly have survived the fall. No one could have. She looked up at Legolas. A look of anger and grief passed over his face as he met her eyes.

"Get the wounded on horses," Théoden said from somewhere near her. "The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas and Dúvainiel both looked at the king. Surely he did not expect them to not look for Aragorn's body?

"Come," Théoden said, putting a hand on Legolas' shoulder. Legolas looked down the edge of the cliff one last time, and then he angrily turned away. She looked at Gimli sadly, as they also turned away from the cliff.

One of Théoden's men brought Arod to Legolas, and he mounted, holding his hand out to Gimli to help him up. Ésha trotted up to her, and she was amazed to see the horse was not only alive, but appeared to be uninjured as well. She gave the horse a rub on the neck, and mounted. Legolas pulled along side her, and reached his hand over, lifting up her hair.

"You've been hurt," he said, looking at the blood that matted in the hair.

"It looks worse than it is," she told him. "I'm all right."

Théoden had set the pace at a gallop, and she nudged Ésha to catch up. Legolas followed quietly, but she noticed that the expression of anger and grief now held concern as well.

"I'm fine," she insisted, when he looked over at her.

"I believe you," he said.

She could hear the lie in his voice, and she rolled her eyes and urged Ésha to move faster.

He caught up to her and she looked at him.

"I appreciate your concern, but it is not necessary. It's just a small bump."

"I will tend to it when we reach the Keep," he told her. She did not argue with him about it, and when they reached Helm's Deep and were safely within the walls, his immediate attention went to her head. Aragorn's disappearance had hit him hard, and she let him tend to her head, knowing that if anything else, it was at least a welcome distraction for him.

"Better?" he asked her once he had cleaned the wound.

She smiled and nodded to him. He looked in her eyes and she saw the pain he held there.

"Legolas?"

"We should help," he said, walking away from her. She knew he was trying to ignore the hurt of losing Aragorn. It made her sad to see him like this.

She went one way as he went another, each doing what they could to ready the people in Helm's Deep for what was coming. She found the king at the top of the battlement, and walked with him and his guards, listening as he made plans.

"Saruman's arm will have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here," she heard him say.

It made her angry. She wanted to tell him that he was being arrogant, and he would be surprised to see exactly how long Saruman's arm had gotten. He should not underestimate the wizard.

As the sun set, she searched for Legolas. She became concerned when she did not find him, but she did not find Gimli either, so she hoped that meant they were together and Legolas was not alone. She made her way to the top of the battlement where she stood all night, watching for any sign of the danger that was coming. She could feel it in her very soul. It was only a matter of time now. Her thoughts lingered on Legolas, and she hoped he was all right. She knew he would find her when he was ready to deal with it, but it did not stop her from worrying for him.

When the sun rose, it was still quiet on the plain, so she decided to find the king. She walked around, and to the hall, where she found Théoden consulting with his guards.

She listened thoughtfully to him as he spoke with Gamling. Suddenly, the door opened, and Dúvainiel was stunned to see Aragorn standing there. He was bloody and bruised, but he was alive.

"Elessar!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to him. "My heart sings to see you alive!" She looked him over critically, "You look terrible."

"That's what Legolas said," he looked at her wryly. "Dúvainiel, I must speak with the king."

At his tone of urgency, she moved out of his way and he walked to the back of the hall. Dúvainiel followed him, and Legolas and Gimli joined them as well.

"It is time," Aragorn said to the king. "A great host is upon us."

"A great host, you say?" Théoden replied.

"All Isengard is emptied." Dúvainiel felt her stomach drop at Aragorn's words.

"How many?" the king asked.

Whatever Dúvainiel had been prepared for, it wasn't Aragorn's answer, "Ten thousand strong at least."

Apparently, the king hadn't been ready for it either, "Ten thousand?"

This was it, Dúvainiel thought. They were all going to die.

Aragorn confirmed it, "It is an army bred for a single purpose- to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

Théoden looked away, then back at Aragorn, "Let them come."

He turned and stalked out of the hall, and the group followed him.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall," he told Gamling as they walked.

Gamling nodded to his king and turned in the opposite direction. Théoden, in the meantime, walked them to the front gate.

"We will cover the causeway," he told them. "And the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg."

Gimli commented to the king, "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs. These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

Théoden turned and looked at the dwarf, "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep."

Dúvainiel bristled at his tone, even if it _was_ to the dwarf. Théoden made his way back in the fortress, followed by Aragorn. Legolas followed, and put his hand on Gimli's shoulder as he walked by Gimli. Dúvainiel looked at Gimli, who looked rather embarrassed. She shook her head in annoyance at the king, and followed Legolas.

Théoden led them up to the top of the battlements, "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be re-sown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

Aragorn was quickly losing his patience with the king, "They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child."

Théoden turned to Aragorn and grabbed his tunic, "What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

Théoden started to walk away, when Aragorn tried again.

"Send out riders, my lord. You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" Théoden asked, turning back to Aragorn again. "Elves? Dwarves?" He gestured to them, standing behind Aragorn. "We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn said confidently.

The king got even closer to Aragorn, "Gondor? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon…" His angry words stopped, as he looked away. Turning his attention back to Aragorn once more, he said, "No, my lord Aragorn, we are alone."

With that, he walked away from the group. Dúvainiel and Legolas shared a knowing look. Théoden's arrogance would be the death of them all.

Aragorn turned around and walked in the opposite direction of the king.

"We'll place the reserves along the wall," he told them, as they walked against the flow of people moving into the caves. "They can support the archers from above the gate."

"Aragorn, you must rest. You're no use to us half alive," Legolas said.

Dúvainiel heard Éowyn call out to Aragorn, "My lord Aragorn!"

She was walking with the people towards the caves, and ran up to him when she saw him.

"I'm to be sent with the women into the caves," Dúvainiel heard her say. Clearly, she was annoyed by this.

"That is an honorable charge," Aragorn told her. Dúvainiel turned away from the two of them and ushered people towards the caves.

"You do not command the others to stay," Éowyn continued to argue, "They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you."

Dúvainiel's eyes instantly turned around to gaze at the sheildmaiden, astonished by her words. Their meaning was crystal clear.

"I'm sorry," Éowyn whispered, clearly embarrassed by her outburst. She stalked past Aragorn and brushed between Legolas and Gimli as she made her way to the caves. Dúvainiel looked at Aragorn.

Choosing to ignore the issue of Éowyn, she decided instead to side with Legolas, "Aragorn, Legolas is right. Let me clean your wounds, and then you need to rest."

He said nothing, but turned and walked away from her. Dúvainiel sighed in frustration. She continued to usher the people towards the caves.

Every so often, a young boy or old man would come out of the caves, and after a while, she followed one of them to the armory. She stopped at the top of the stairs and listened as Legolas spoke to Aragorn in elvish.

"Boe a hyn, (_And they should be_,)" he was saying. "Neled herain dan caer menig! (_Three hundred against ten thousand_!)

"Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras, (_They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras._)" Aragorn replied.

"Aragorn," Legolas said urgently, "nedin dagor hen ú-'erir... ortheri. Natha daged dhaer! (_they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die_!)

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted at Legolas. He turned away from the elf and walked out of the room. Legolas tried to follow, but Gimli held him back.

"Let him go, lad. Let him be."

Dúvainiel turned from the armory and headed out to find Aragorn. She stopped to pick up a cloth, which she wet, and a needle and thread. She walked around searching for Aragorn, and found him sitting on the stone steps, staring off into nowhere.

"Now that I have you," Dúvainiel said, as she sat beside him.

He looked at her, as though he were defeated already. She quietly tended to his wounds, cleaning them both and stitching the deeper one.

She put her hand under his chin and moved his face so that she was looking into his eyes.

"Hebo estel (_Have hope_) Elessar," she told him. "All is not lost, yet." She placed her hand on the pendant he wore around his neck, and then got up and walked away.

She made her way down to the caves, to make sure the women and children were secure there. She was just about to head out when she heard the Horn of Lorien. Surprised by the sound, she dashed from the cave, running through the stone halls until she was back outside. Down a set of stairs, she ran, then up another set, until she came to the top of the stairs that led to the front gate. She stopped short, when the Elves came into view. She saw a face she had wondered if she would ever see again.

"We are proud to fight alongside Men once more," Haldir said.

Completely ignoring any sort of decorum, Dúvainiel nearly flew down the stairs at the sight of her brother.

"Haldir!" She jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Little One!" He embraced her, and then let go, stepped back and looked her over. "Lle maa quell (_You look well_)."

"Im quell (_I am well_)," she told him, hugging him again.

She heard Aragorn giving orders to the Elves, and she let go of Haldir and stepped away from him. She followed the group as Aragorn climbed the stairs and showed the Elves where he wanted them to stand. Suddenly, she felt ready for the Uruk-hai. Her heart swelled with pride, knowing that her people had come to help the Men, and she stood a little taller. Legolas must have been thinking similar thoughts, because he reached over to her and squeezed her shoulder. She looked at him and grinned. She looked back to Haldir, who raised an eyebrow at her. The exchange between her and Legolas did not go unnoticed by her observant brother. She quirked one of her own brows innocently at him, but knew that he knew her too well. Her reaction gave it away to him.

Everything was nearly in place. In the distance, the sound of thunder caught Dúvainiel's sensitive ears. There was more than one storm coming. The feeling in her stomach tightened.

"Little One," Haldir said, pulling her to the side. "The Prince of Mirkwood, huh?"

She looked at him, confused.

"He is a good ellon, Little One," he told her approvingly. Then he looked around, and then back at her. As if telling her a secret, he said in a hushed tone, "I want you to join the women and the children in the caves."

She looked at him incredulously, "Excuse me?"

"It's safer there," he replied, trying to reason with her. She looked in his eyes and saw he was serious.

"My place is here, Haldir, with my people. You will not have me cowering in caves when I can be helping. I am as good with a bow as you are." Elves and men began to turn and look at them as she raised her voice. She was offended and angry that he had even made such a stupid suggestion.

"Little One-"

"SHUT UP," she yelled at him. "Don't call me that! I'm not a little elfling anymore, and you're not going to tell me what to do!"

She saw his hurt expression, but turned around and stalked away, ignoring him when he called her by her name. She couldn't remember the last time he had actually called her 'Dúvainiel', and for a moment, she felt bad for yelling at him. She made her way down the battlement and found a place to stand, the anger and guilt prickling the back of her mind. She felt guilty, because she knew he had only wanted to protect her, but he had to realize that he couldn't protect her forever.

Lightning flashed across the sky and she looked at the horizon. They were coming, she saw. Their march began to get louder, and when the lightning flashed again, she could see their numbers. She swallowed hard. There were so many. Just then, the rain began to fall.

"A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas! _(Show them no mercy! For you shall receive none!_)" She heard Aragorn shout over the noise of the Uruks.

"I Melain veria lye (_May the Valar protect us_)," she whispered.

The Uruk-hai stopped their march and she heard their low growls. The Uruk leader cried out twice, and all the other Uruks began to roar and bang their spears on the ground. The sound was thunderous. Dúvainiel watched as an arrow flew into the air from somewhere down the battlement and struck an Uruk in the neck.

"Dartho! (_Hold_!)" Aragorn called.

The army became silent and still, and the stricken Uruk fell forward and died. The Uruks were angered, and began growling and snarling. Then their leader raised his weapon and the army began to charge.

"Tangado a chadad! (_Prepare to fire_!)" Aragorn called out.

She pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it in her bow.

Above the roar, she heard Legolas' voice, "Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc. (_Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arm_.)

"Leithio i philinn! (_Release the arrows_!)" Aragorn called.

Dúvainiel let it go and the Uruk she was aiming at, fell. She pulled another arrow and did it again. And again. Just then, an arrow came whizzing past her ear. The ellon behind her fell to the ground. She swallowed hard as she pulled another arrow out of her quiver and shot.

Arrows sailed in every direction, and Elves and Uruks fell. She had no time to think about it. The Uruks began to lean ladders against the wall, and climb them.

"Pendraith! (_Ladders_!)" Aragorn warned. "Swords! Swords!"

Dúvainiel used the last of her arrows, and then dropped her bow. She pulled her sword out just as an Uruk reached her. She pulled it back, and slashed it across his neck. He fell at her feet. Another took his place. One after another they came, seemingly endless. She slashed her way through them, not stopping to think where Legolas was, or Aragorn, or her brother. She didn't have time to think, as she moved on instinct. She just kept fighting. As one Uruk-hai fell, another took its place.

Over the sounds of the fighting, she heard Gimli, "Nineteen! Twenty!"

She shook her head. Males and their stupid competition.

Then she heard Aragorn, his voice sounded frantic, "Togo hon dad, Legolas! (_Bring him down, Legolas_!) She looked around, trying to find the cause of the urgency. "Dago hon! Dago hon! _(Kill him! Kill him!_)"

She saw it then, the Uruk who was running through the crowd carrying a torch. Where was he going with it? She saw Legolas' arrow hit once, then twice, and then the Uruk jumped forward. There was a loud explosion and Dúvainiel was thrown backwards. She landed hard on her back. Stone flew everywhere, and she barely managed to dodge a large block of it before it fell beside her.

"Tanya nae n'quel, (_That was not good_)," she muttered, as she picked herself up off the ground. She pulled herself up just in time to defend herself once more against the endless stream of Uruks.

She saw the gapping hole in the wall, and the stream of Uruk-Hai that entered it.

"Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep!" she heard a voice yell, "Get your men out of there!"

She dodged a blade that was coming at her, and struck down the offending Uruk.

"Nan Barad! Nan Barad!" Aragorn called to the elves. "Haldir, nan Barad! (_To the Keep! Pull back to the Keep! Haldir, to the Keep_!)"

"Nan Barad!" The sound of her brother's voice hit her ears and she looked in the direction it had come from, and began to fight her way through towards him. As she brought her sword down on an Uruk, she felt a pain run through her soul. In alarm, she looked to where her brother had been standing.

"Haldir!" she called in a panic. An Uruk stood behind him, a sword lifted over his head, and he brought it down hard on Haldir's back. Time seemed to stand still for Dúvainiel as she watched her brother fall to his knees. She ran through the crowd of Elves and Uruks, pushing them all out of her way, oblivious to anything else except her brother. She drew her sword back and stabbed an Uruk in her way. Finally, she reached him, as he fell backwards and she caught him in her arms.

"Haldir!" she sobbed.

His eyes focused on her face. "Little One," he whispered.

"Amin hiraetha (_I'm sorry_)," she said as she tears streamed down her face. She looked into his eyes, into his mind, and saw the image of her there- the way she looked as an elfling. It was what he carried with him in his heart. "Amin mela lle (_I love you)_, brother."

"Little One," he whispered, so weak, she almost couldn't hear him. His eyes glazed over, and then they were empty. Dúvainiel cried out in anguish. The chaos continued around her, as she sobbed over her brother's body. A hand grasped her arm and pulled her away.

"No! NOOO!" she cried, jerking away from Aragorn. He grabbed at her again, as she fell over Haldir's body, as if protecting it. "I won't leave him!" she screamed.

Aragorn pried her away, and picked her up, hauling her over his shoulder. He turned and started to move away from the body, slashing the enemies in his path as he went.

Dúvainiel would have none of it. She kicked her legs and screamed at him, "Let go! LET GO OF ME!" She jerked her body as he swung his sword, and he lost his balance and fell to his knee. She dropped out of his grasp and she crawled back to Haldir, still frantically sobbing. She was on her knees and she bent over and laid her forehead in his hair.

"Dúvainiel!" An image of Galadriel flashed in her head. "Get up, Dúvainiel!"

A dying Uruk fell on Haldir, and she pushed him off, grabbed the dagger out of Haldir's waist belt, and struck the Uruk in the neck. An anger filled her then- one that she had never felt before. It consumed her. She stabbed the Uruk again and again, even though he was already dead. Then she turned and flung the dagger into the neck of another Uruk moving towards her. Why had her brother even been sent here? She looked at Haldir, and then picking up his sword in one hand and hers in the other, she stood up and began to slash her way through the Uruks once again. Any fear that she had previously had, left her as she sought revenge for her brother's death.

She fought her way back towards the keep with the others, her mind focused on killing the Uruk-Hai. She wanted them to suffer- she hoped they felt pain every time she struck one.

Around her, she heard the sounds of the men, but she ignored them. She was relentless in her killing now.

Théoden called out to them, "Retreat!"

"Hurry! Inside! Get them inside!" Aragorn yelled.

Still she swung her swords. Finally, an arm reached out to her and pulled her back, and they moved back into the hall of the keep. She turned to see who had dared to put their hands on her and was relieved to see that it was Legolas. He was alive, at least.

Doors were barricaded behind her. She turned to see the men desperately trying to keep the Uruk-Hai from getting in. She was just as desperate to get back out. Grief threatened to overtake her again as she looked down at Haldir's sword. It was dirty, with Uruk-Hai blood, and she stalked across the hall and wiped it clean on the cloth that was laying on the floor. She sheathed the sword, and held her other one, ready for the Uruks to come through the door. She listened with one ear to the men coming up with a plan.

"The sun is rising," she heard Gimli say.

She looked up at the window, where the early morning rays had just begun to stream through.

"Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east," she remembered Gandalf's words. Today was the fifth day.

Legolas handed her the reins of her horse, and she mounted it and joined the group, grateful for the decision to ride out and meet the Uruk-Hai.

"Forth Eorlingas!" Théoden hollered, as he led the charge out of the hall. Dúvainiel was right behind Aragorn as they rode out behind the king. Killing Uruks in their path, they made their way through and out of Helm's Deep. When they had reached the bottom of the causeway, the sun rose over the hill, and she looked up when she heard a horse neigh.

The Uruk-Hai stopped fighting and looked to the top of the hill.

"Gandalf," she heard Aragorn say.

Shadowfax stood in the light and reared up on his hind legs. Then a second rider came into view and Dúvainiel recognized him as Éomer.

He raised his hand and she heard him cry out, "Rohirrim! To the king!"

Suddenly thousands of riders came thundering over the hillside. Dúvainiel took advantage of the distraction, and she struck down the closest Uruks. Beside her, Legolas did the same, and Aragorn joined back in as well.

Finally it was over, and the Uruk-Hai were running for their lives. Dúvainiel noticed that they were running towards a forest that appeared some time during the night. The trees, she knew, were angry too.

"Stay out of the forest!" Éomer called, riding in front of the pursuers. "Keep away from the trees!"

They watched as the last Uruk entered the forest and the trees closed in around their enemies. Screams could be heard and the trees moved. Then, everything was silent.

Dúvainiel wheeled Ésha around and galloped back up the causeway. She pulled to a stop and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Tears now returned to her eyes. She kneeled beside her brother and held his hand- it was cold. His skin had turned a pasty, unnatural color. She laid her head on his chest and cried.

Eventually, the tears stopped and she just lay there quietly for a long while. No one had bothered her, and she distantly heard the sounds of people moving around her. Finally, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Legolas and Gandalf. She shook her head at them- she could not find the words. Aragorn joined them, and standing over Haldir, he began a prayer for Haldir's soul to find its way to Valinor. Legolas joined him, when he realized what Aragorn was saying. Gandalf reached out to help her to her feet, and when she stood, she threw her arms around his waist as a fresh wave of tears hit her and she sobbed into his chest. He wrapped comforting arms around her, and let her cry while he rubbed her back. When her eyes dried once more, he pulled away from her, and steered her to Legolas, who took her by the arm, and walked her back to the hall.

Her grief seemed to change to shock, and her movements became automatic. She let Legolas lead her away without argument. She had no words to say. She couldn't find them. When they arrived in the hall, it was quiet. Most everyone was outside, piling the carcasses of the Uruk-Hai to be burned. Briefly, she wondered what would become of the Elf bodies- of Haldir's body. She shook her head. She couldn't think about that now.

She looked at Legolas, who was giving her a concerned look. He pulled her to him, putting his arms around her. She just stood there feeling empty. She felt as though she couldn't move. It hurt to move. It hurt to think.

She looked across the hall and saw her reflection in a metal shield hanging on the wall. Most of her hair had come out of her plait. Now it was matted and stuck to the blood and dirt in her face. She thought some of that blood was Haldir's.

Legolas seemed to hear her thoughts and he pulled away and led her to a seat. He left her there for a moment, and then returned with a cloth and a bowl of water. Gently, he cleaned off her face. Her eyes became unfocused as she gazed over his shoulder. Someone brought him a brush, and he cleaned her hair, brushed it and plaited it once again. He used the cloth to clean her arms, and he checked her for any visible injuries.

He left her side once more, and Éowyn came to sit with her. Time passed, but she didn't know how long. It could have been a couple hours, maybe a day. She didn't know.

Legolas returned to her side, and took her by the arm. She felt numb, and she let him guide her without protest.

"It is time for the people to return to Edoras," she heard Gandalf say from somewhere nearby. "We have business elsewhere, before we can return there."

She was helped onto a horse behind Legolas, and she gripped his waist tighter than necessary, taking comfort in his scent and thanking the Valar that at least she still had him with her.

They came to the top of the hill just out of Helm's Deep, and in the distance, the lightning flashed in the gray clouds, the orange haze from the Mountain of Fire could be seen.

"Sauron's wrath will be terrible," Gandalf said, "his retribution swift. The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little Hobbits. Somewhere in the wilderness."

TBC


	4. Return of the King A Rewrite Part 1

A/N- This chapter is still dedicated to Aeronnen. You know what you did- thanks Aeronnen! This one is for you-

Dúvainiel heard Legolas arguing with someone, though she did not understand his anger or frustration. It was decided that she would go back to Edoras with Éowyn, while the males of the group and Éomer and Théoden traveled to Isengard to confront Saruman.

"Dúvainiel," Legolas said. He sounded far away to her. She did not look at him. "You must return to Edoras with Éowyn. I will come for you as soon as I can."

He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her forehead.

The days went by, and Dúvainiel arrived at Edoras. She would not speak to anyone. It worried Éowyn, who spent quite a bit of time with the elleth in an effort to get some kind of response from her.

By the time the members of the Fellowship had returned to Edoras, Dúvainiel's soul had weakened considerably. Eowyn had dressed her in her green dress and her hair was loose and flowed around her. She sat at a table in the main hall, staring at nothing.

"I am happy to see you, Dúvainiel," Legolas said when he sat with her at the table, taking her hands in his. She sat in a daze still, unresponsive to anyone, and it worried him.

He pulled her arm slightly, and she stood and allowed him to lead her away from the table. He led her out of the hall and outside, then down to the stables. He took her to Shadowfax's stall, and led her inside. The stallion nudged her with his nose and when she didn't respond, he pawed the ground. Dúvainiel heard Legolas speaking to the horse in elvish, but it didn't sink in to her mind what he was saying. It was as though he was far away and she couldn't understand him. She couldn't focus… didn't want to focus. She sat in the hay, and it was quiet. She heard Legolas speaking again, and then footsteps, as he walked away, leaving her with the horse.

Shadowfax pushed his nose into her face and then lay down in the hay beside her. She pulled her knees up to her chest and put her arms around them. Shadowfax neighed softly to her, then laid his head at her feet.

They remained that way until hours later when Legolas came back for her. He sat beside her and spoke to her and Shadowfax. She stared at the hay on the stall floor. She felt Legolas put his arm around her. Everything fell silent, until Legolas pulled her to a stand and ushered her out of the stable and back to her room, which was now next to Éowyn's, though she didn't realize it. He took her dress off, and pulled her to the bed, where he made her lay down. He covered her with the blanket as she stared at the wall across the room. She heard him sigh, and he left the room. For the rest of the night, she just stared.

The next morning, Dúvainiel heard her door open, and Legolas came in. He made her sit up, and dressed her in her leggings and tunic. He spoke to her softly as he brushed her hair. Nothing he said could reach her. He pulled on her arm, and she stood, and he walked her to the hall, where others were gathered for the morning meal. Legolas sat her down next to Aragorn and sat on her other side.

"Why is it so cold?" she whispered. Legolas and Aragorn both turned to her, alarmed by her question. Elves did not feel the cold. It was clear to them- she was succumbing to her grief.

"I'm running out of time," she heard Legolas say from far away. "I am taking her." His tone left no room for argument.

He stood and picked her up, one hand around her back and one under her legs. She closed her eyes as she smelled him. He carried her out of the hall and down to the stable, where he put her on his horse. He mounted behind her, and put his arm around her waist. Then he nudged the horse forward and they galloped out of Edoras and across the plain. Her eyes remained closed and her body leaned back against his as they rode for hours, until Legolas came to the edge of a forest. He pulled the horse to a stop, and got off. Then he reached up to her and pulled her down, and carried her once more. He walked through the trees, and Dúvainiel felt the life of the forest around her. The trees were whispering to her. He laid her on the ground at the base of a tree, and sat beside her. He held her hand.

She heard his voice from somewhere far away, "Do not leave me, Dúvainiel. I need you with me."

"Le melin (_I love you_)," he whispered.

Everything was dark. Then a white light brightened in the distance and she walked toward it. A shadow came into sight and walked to her, and she gasped when she saw his face.

"Haldir!" She smiled at the sight of him. He did not smile back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

She shook her head. What did he mean? Where was here? Wait a minute. Haldir was dead. Did that mean… was she dead too? "Where are we Haldir?"

"Go back, Dúvainiel."

"What?" she didn't understand.

"Your time for grieving is over," he said firmly. "You must return."

"No. I am happy to be with you, Haldir."

He put his hands on her shoulders.

"It is not your time yet," he told her. "Your task is not complete."

"But Brother…"

"No," he said firmly and turned her around. He stood next to her, put an arm over her shoulders and led her forward.

"Look at Legolas, Little One."

She looked into the darkness and saw herself lying on the ground. Legolas knelt beside her, holding her hand, his head bent in sorrow of his own.

"Le melin," she heard him whisper.

"Oh Legolas," she whispered, even though he could not hear her.

"My journey is over, Little One," her brother said, "But yours is not. You must return. Do you not love him too?"

"I do, Haldir. But it does not erase 2100 years of you being my brother."

"Nor would I expect it to. But Dúvainiel, you can not fade now. You are stronger than this. It is time for you to return."

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. A tear slipped from her eye and fell, and he put a hand on her cheek and brushed the wetness away.

"Not so little any more," he smiled at her. "I'm proud of who you have become."

Another tear fell, and he caressed it away as well. "No more tears. No more sorrow," he said to her. "Do not cry for me any more. When you think of me, smile, knowing that one day, we will see each other again."

The light began to fade around her and he put up his hand to wave.

"He is a good ellon," she heard him say, his voice fading. "I am pleased for you."

Her eyes snapped open and she gasped a deep breath with the life that filled her.

"Dúvainiel!" Legolas cried.

Warmth filled her body once again, as he helped her to sit up.

"Legolas," she whispered. It was a surreal feeling. Had she just been on the brink of death? The last few weeks came rushing into her mind and she shook her head. She looked at Legolas and took a deep breath. He had not given up on her. She put her hands on his face and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard on the lips. If he was surprised, he didn't show it, as he returned the kiss completely. Above all else, she felt the need and desire to be with him right now, as close as two Elves could be. She reached her hands up and caressed his ears, an intimate gesture between elves. He shivered at her touch, and then allowing her to take him with her, he reached up to caress her own ears. She put a hand on his chest, and then grasping his tunic, began to pull it off. He pulled back and looked at her, surprised. There was no hesitance in her face- she knew what she wanted, and he let her remove the tunic. He put his arms around her and held her firmly as he kissed her again.

It was a sacred moment between them, when he laid her unclothed on the forest floor. Their bodies and their souls joined together as one, and the trees sang around them of their love. Dúvainiel felt her life renewed.

Later, as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, she spoke.

"He was more than my brother," she told him. "He was my mother and my father."

He said nothing, just listening to her speak.

"I was young… very young, when my parents were killed." She looked at him and whispered, "I can barely remember what they looked like." She swallowed hard and continued her tale. "My father was a Marchwarden, my mother a Lady of Galadriel. They were sent on a mission to Rivendell, and chose to take us, my brothers and me, with them. It was the only time I had ever left Lothlorien. We were attacked by orcs. It was Mithrandir that saved us. Mithrandir, who came along too late to help my parents, but just in time to save the rest of us. He became like a grandfather to me that day. He returned us to the safety of Lothlorien. Any time he ever visited the Woods after that, he always made a point to come to see us, often he brought us gifts. Sometimes he would even send a gift or note by way of messengers. My circlet was a gift from Mithrandir. He gave it to me the day I took my mother's place as a Lady of Galadriel. But Haldir… as the eldest, it was his responsibility, and he became my parents. He took my father's place as Marchwarden, and raised me and my brothers. Rumil and Orophin are very close in age, and because of that, they are very close to one another. Haldir and I shared a bond that way, too. I was his 'Little One', as he was so fond of calling me. He raised me the way he raised my brothers, teaching me to fight and defend myself. He didn't have any idea how to raise an elleth, but Galadriel balanced it out as I got older. He was a good brother, he always protected me."

She fell silent and he ran his fingers through her hair.

Finally, Legolas propped himself on his elbow and looked at her, "So now I learn the truth. You are a Lady." He looked and sounded incredibly amused.

Dúvainiel sat up and cocked her head to the side as she looked at him, and her dark head fell over her shoulder.

"What about you, _Your Highness_?" she teased. He had the grace to blush and she laughed at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I guess it didn't seem important."

She nodded and he reached for her hand, pulling her back down. She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. She felt him draw a shuttering breath. Startled, she pulled herself up and looked at him. He had tears in his eyes.

"Shhh…" she whispered, as she laid down on him again. She ran her hand across his skin.

He took another deep breath. "I thought you were gone," he told her. "I thought that I had lost you."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She thought about Haldir and what he had told her. "It's over," she said. "No more despair." She picked her head up and looked at his face. She was very well aware that before it was all over with, either of them could still lose the other. It weighed heavily on her heart. She did not know if she could handle losing him, too. He pulled her up towards him and kissed her lips softly which she returned just as softly at first, and then demanding of him once again, and for the second time that night, they made love under the trees, as the forest sang around them.

They were still wrapped in each other's arms when the morning light hit them. Both of them knew their time had been too short, but they had to return to Edoras. They dressed quietly and then Legolas whistled to Arod. The white gelding came running at the call, and Legolas mounted him, and then pulled Dúvainiel up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and smiled. She thought about Haldir and how much she would miss him, but he was right. Her journey was not over. She would not ever forget him, but she would not grieve for him again. That was his wish and she would honor that, no matter how difficult it would be.

As they trotted back towards Edoras, Legolas told Dúvainiel of things that she had missed- Saruman was dead, he told her. Merry and Pippin had returned to Edoras with them. Then Pippin had an incident with the Palatir, and he and Gandalf had gone to Minas Tirith. Dúvainiel was bothered by the fact that she had been unable to say her farewells to Gandalf. She wondered when she would see him again. She refused to use the term "if".

They reached Edoras by noon, and went straight to the hall after leaving Arod at the stable. It was quiet, but Éowyn, Aragorn and Gimli were seated and eating. Well, picking at their plates was more like it, thought Dúvainiel. Aragorn was the first to notice the two elves, and he rose from the table and smiled at Dúvainiel.

"Dúvainiel, Im gelir ceni ad lín (_I'm happy to see you again_)," Aragorn said. By the time he reached her, Éowyn and Gimli had also risen from the table and were walking towards her. Aragorn held out his hand to Dúvainiel, "This is yours."

She reached her hand out, and he dropped a ring into it. She looked at it and gasped. It was Haldir's Marchwarden ring- a thick ring of gold, engraved with leaves. It held a red stone.

She looked at Aragorn, surprised. "Le hannon (_Thank you_)," she said to him. He nodded his head in response. She closed her fingers around the ring and threw herself at the Ranger, engulfing him in a hug. "Le hannon, Elessar," she whispered.

She pulled away, her face and his both red with embarrassment at her display of appreciation. She put the ring on the forefinger of her right hand. Éowyn hugged her next and told her how glad she was to see that Dúvainiel was all right.

Gimli, she noticed, seemed unsure of how to approach her. He finally settled on taking one of her hands into both of his, where he gave it a comforting pat and told her of his sorrow at the loss of her brother. This was a different Dwarf than the one who had told her brother he would spit on Haldir's grave. The journey had changed Gimli- had changed them all. She accepted his condolences gracefully, and was amused when she realized that she was becoming rather fond of the Dwarf. So overcome with this realization, she threw her arms around the Dwarf, and hugged him. The others laughed at the Dwarf's surprised reaction.

"There's something else," Legolas said, when the others went back to their meal.

He led them to her room, and when he opened the door, she was amazed at what she saw on her bed.

Haldir's golden armor and vembrances lay there, completely spotless, as though they were new.

She looked at Legolas, who was watching her carefully for her reaction. She could tell by the expectant look that he had been the one to save the precious pieces of Haldir's property. She reached over and squeezed his hand, and then let go. She walked over to the bed and ran her hands softly over the gold.

"Le hannon, Legolas," she said.

He walked up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders, and she turned and kissed him on his cheek. She then laid her head against his shoulder as she looked down at the bed. She decided that she would wear the items to war, in honor of Haldir.

The next few days passed slowly for the group. Everyone was restless, and even the men felt the anticipation that something big was coming. Dúvainiel and Legolas took time for themselves when they could, even if it was just riding together out on patrol. It was those moments that Dúvainiel knew would sustain her through all this.

It was a quiet afternoon when things changed. Dúvainiel was in the hall, listening as Théoden spoke with his guards as the poured over a map. Suddenly Dúvainiel heard a commotion from outside, and she looked at the door. Aragorn flung the doors open as he came running in.

"The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he hollered. "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid."

For a moment it was silent, as all eyes turned to Théoden.

"And Rohan will answer," he decided. "Muster the Rohirrim."

From the corner of her eye, Dúvainiel saw Éomer bow to his uncle, then set his hand on Éowyn's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. A flurry of activity followed the king's order, and within a half an hour, they were ready to ride towards Gondor. Dúvainiel now wore the Lorien armor and vembrances with the rest of her outfit. Although her brother had been larger in stature, she had had the time over the last few days to work with the gold and cut it down to her size. She felt closer to her brother while she was wearing it- as though he rode with her, always the protective brother.

Dúvainiel again rode Ésha, and Legolas and Gimli rode together on Arod. They were seated on the horses waiting for Théoden when Dúvainiel heard Gimli speaking to Legolas.

"Horsemen, hmph! I wish I could muster a legion of dwarves, fully armed and filthy!"

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war," Legolas responded. "I fear war already marches on their own lands."

She looked at the Dwarf solemnly when his eyes met hers. She carried Legolas' fear with her as well. She knew Sauron's forces would not attack only Minas Tirith. Her thoughts turned to Lothlorien. With the number of elves sailing West and the number of them lost at Helm's Deep, she wondered who would protect the Golden Wood. She swallowed hard at the thought. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the mental image in her imagination of the woods of Lothlorien burning. She opened her eyes and looked at Legolas.

"I worry for Mirkwood, as well," he said.

She nodded, but didn't say anything to him. He had to realize, she thought, her other brothers were still out there. He reached over and took her hand. Gimli said nothing.

Just then, King Théoden moved past them towards the front lines, and Legolas let go of her hand. He nudged Arod forward to follow the king, and Dúvainiel did the same. When they reached the front, Théoden stopped and turned to his soldiers, and then called for them to ride to war. Then he turned his horse toward the plain and led them in a gallop.

It was well into the night when they stopped to give the horses a few hours rest, and then they were off again. By noon the next day, they arrived at Dunharrow.

As they trotted their way through the encampment, men around them stopped to acknowledge their king.

"Make way for the king! Make way!"

"Grimbold, how many?" the king asked.

"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord," Dúvainiel heard the man respond.

"We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Théoden King," came another comment.

They continued to trot up the passage to the top of the mountainside. Tents had already been set up for the king and his company. Dúvainiel slipped off Ésha. The horse seemed unsettled, and it bothered Dúvainiel. She looked around and noticed that most of the horses seemed uneasy.

"The horses are restless," she heard Legolas say. "And the men are quiet."

She turned as Éomer responded to the ellon, "They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain."

She turned to look at the mountain that loomed before them.

"That road there," Gimli pointed. "Where does that lead?"

"It is the road to the Dimholt," Legolas replied. Dúvainiel felt a shiver run up her spine. "The door under the mountain."

"None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil," Éomer told them, and then turned to tend to his horse.

Dúvainiel looked at Legolas, and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Let's eat, and then we should rest," he said.

"I'll go find Aragorn," Gimli told them.

Legolas and Dúvainiel found the tent that their group was to use, and he started the fire outside of it. Dúvainiel found some meat to cook, and the four of them sat around the fire together making plans for when they were to arrive at Minas Tirith. Afterwards, Aragorn went into the tent to lay down, and Gimli went and joined some of the men for drinks. Dúvainiel and Legolas sat outside the tent, always on a constant guard of their friend, who was getting an uneasy sleep inside.

Shortly afterwards, Dúvainiel felt a prickling sensation and she listened intently. A single horse's hoof beats could be heard walking up the path on the side of the mountain. She walked away from Legolas to see what it was. When the rider dismounted and looked in her face, she gasped in surprise.

"Lord Elrond," she said as she bowed to him. It had been many long years since she had seen him, but she would never forget his magniminity.

"Little Dúvainiel," he said with a slight smile. "What sort of mischief do you find yourself in these days?"

She grinned at him, "The usual." She knew he didn't come here to make small talk with her. It was a long way from Imladris. "Do you come to see Elessar? Is all well with Evenstar?"

A shadow crossed the Elf's face and Dúvainiel swallowed. She looked in his eyes and felt him pull her to Rivendell. Arwen lay in her bed, silent and still. Her hands were cold. She was dying. Elrond pulled back from her, cutting the connection.

"It will not be an easy path for him, Dúvainiel." She knew whom he was speaking of. "You must follow him, until the end of it."

She bowed her head to him. She was bound to follow him anyways, but the weight of Evenstar's life hanging in the balance now pulled heavily at her.

"I will take you to the king," she said, then turned away and led him to Théoden's tent.

As she turned to leave him, he reached up and grabbed her arm. "Be ready. His path leads away from Théoden."

She nodded her understanding and he let go. She started to walk away when the Lord of Rivendell called her name.

"Dúvainiel," he called. She turned to look at him. "I'm so sorry about Haldir."

Of course Elrond would know how close she had been to her brother. A twinge of pain went through her heart at the sympathy and she nodded in acceptance, bowed slightly and went to find Legolas.

The blonde elf was still guarding Aragorn's tent. She told him of the visitor and his words, and they walked away to find their horses and get them ready. They returned to the tent, and Dúvainiel noticed that Aragorn was now gone from the bed. She retrieved her pack, put her weapons back on, and went back out. Legolas told her they needed to find Gimli, and they walked the horses around the campsites until they found him. Legolas told the dwarf what was going on, and Gimli assured them that he would be going wherever they went.

Dúvainiel said nothing and as she mounted Ésha, she noticed Aragorn leaving the king's tent.

"It's time," she told the others, as she watched Aragorn return to what had been their tent. He came out moments later, cloak on and sword in hand. She watched as he found Brego and saddled the stallion. Éowyn came rushing around the corner at him, and she noticed the woman's face, first confused, and then devastated as she backed away from Aragorn. Dúvainiel knew this day had been coming, and she felt bad for the woman. Aragorn turned and led Brego away from Éowyn, who watched silently.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli asked, stopping Aragorn in his tracks.

"Not this time," Aragorn said. "This time you must stay, Gimli."

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas asked him, as he pulled Arod next to Brego.

"You might as well accept it. We're going with you laddie," Gimli told him. Dúvainiel nudged Ésha up next to Arod, and when Aragorn saw her, he looked as though he was going to tell her no. She sat straighter in the saddle and stared at him defiantly, daring him to tell her she couldn't come. He turned away and sighed, then mounted Brego. Legolas looked at Dúvainiel and grinned, then he mounted Arod and pulled Gimli up behind him. Aragorn clicked at Brego and led them forward, down the Dimholt Road. Behind them, the soldiers of Rohan called out to Aragorn, then it fell silent.

They walked their horses the rest of the night, and when the morning light fell over them, Gimli was the first to speak.

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?"

Dúvainiel looked around.

"One that is cursed," Legolas answered.

Dúvainiel knew the story.

"Long ago the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor," she told the dwarf.

Legolas nodded, "To come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain."

"And so Isildur cursed them," Dúvainiel finished, "never to rest, until they had fulfilled their pledge."

For a few moments it was silent.

"There was a prophecy once," Dúvainiel finally said, looking at Aragorn.

It was Legolas who told Gimli and Aragorn, "Who shall call them from the grey twilight? The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

Aragorn gave the elves a surprised look, but said nothing as he urged Brego forward. Finally, he pulled Brego to a stop as the path became more narrow, and dismounted. The others did the same, and then they led the horses as they walked for a little while.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stole away," Gimli said, as they came to the door into the mountain.

"The way is shut," Dúvainiel read the runes around the entry. "It is made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut."

She turned and looked at Aragorn, just as a violent wind came from inside, and spooked the three horses- all of them bolted.

"Brego!" Aragorn called after his horse, who continued to run. Then he turned and looked at the entry. "I do not fear death," he said confidently and then stalked through the entry. He disappeared into the darkness and the others looked around at each other.

"To wherever it may lead," Legolas said, and then followed his friend. Dúvainiel looked at Gimli and then followed Legolas in.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw an unlit torch on the wall. She called for Aragorn, as she pulled it off the wall.

"Do you have a flint?" she asked him.

He pulled one out of a pocket in his belt, and then lit the torch. Dúvainiel handed it to him and he led them deeper into the mountain. The walls were very close, and they had to follow behind one another.

They were not very far in when Dúvainiel's sensitive eyes begin to see shadows move in front of her. Legolas stopped, and she nearly ran into him.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli asked.

"I see shapes of men, and of horses," Legolas answered.

"Where?" Gimli asked. Dúvainiel noticed he seemed nervous.

"Pale banners like shreds of clouds," Legolas continued, ignoring the questions from Gimli. "Spears rise like winter thickets through a shroud of mist."

"The dead are following," Dúvainiel whispered.

Legolas nodded, "They have been summoned."

"The dead?" Gimli asked, alarmed. "Summoned?" Dúvainiel looked at him and raised her eyebrow. "I knew that," he said when he saw the look on her face.

He looked around as the others turned a corner.

"Very good," Dúvainiel heard him say. "Very good." Then, "Legolas!"

Dúvainiel grinned, as the Dwarf realized he had been left alone, and quickly caught up to them. The walls opened up, and suddenly green mist in the shape of arms began to reach at them from the floor. Gimli, she noticed, tried to blow them away. She snickered.

_Just then she heard a crunch sound from up ahead, and heard Aragorn whisper, "Do not look down."_

Naturally, she looked down, and was dismayed to see that they were now walking on skulls- hundreds of them. Gimli crunched behind her, slowly at first and then his pace quickened. Aragorn broke into a sprint, and the rest followed, until the walls opened even further and the came to a large open area. A set of stairs, she noticed, led up to what could have been a palace.

"Who enters my domain?" A voice suddenly echoed. Dúvainiel felt the hairs on her neck stand.

They looked around for the source of the voice and a green figure wearing a crown materialized in front of the stairs.

"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn responded.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," the figure said.

"You will suffer me," Aragorn countered.

The dead king laughed then, a cold laugh filled with malice, as they turned and saw an entire city materialize, as well as hundreds of soldiers.

"The way is shut. It is made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it." They turned back to the dead king as he spoke. Figures began closing in around them. "The way is shut. Now you must die."

Legolas pulled an arrow from his quiver and shot it at the dead king. It swooshed right through him. Dúvainiel pulled out her sword.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath," Aragorn told the dead king, as the ghost walked towards them.

"None, but the King of Gondor may command me!" he retorted.

Dúvainiel watched as Aragorn pulled his sword to the front of his face, as if to show the dead king who he was. The other ignored the sword, and brought his down to strike Aragorn, but it never made it. Aragorn brought his sword up to defend himself, and the swords met in a violent clash.

"That line was broken!" The dead king exclaimed.

Aragorn put his hand on the dead king's throat and squeezed, "It has been remade."

He let go with a violent shove and the dead king stumbled backwards.

"Fight for us, and regain your honor," Aragorn said, looking around at the dead figures that surrounded them. "What say you?"

He began walking through the crowd, showing the soldiers his sword, "What say you?"

The only reply came from Gimli, "You waste your time Aragorn. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."

Dúvainiel silently agreed with Gimli, but said nothing. Aragorn acted as though he hadn't even heard the dwarf as he continued his walk through the soldiers.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled."

Still Aragorn got no response from anyone, and he finally shouted at them, "What say you?"

The dead king began to laugh again, and as quickly as the dead had materialized, they disappeared.

"You have my word," Aragorn yelled desperately. "Fight and I will release you from this living death! What say you?"

"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli called to them.

For a moment, it became incredibly quiet.

"I have a very bad feeling," Dúvainiel whispered.

The mountain suddenly groaned, and Dúvainiel's eyes widened as the walls began to break apart, and skulls fell out at them.

"Run!" Aragorn shouted.

Dúvainiel did not need any prompting.

Thousands of skulls hit them, and buried their legs as they trudged their way out of the cavern. They walls closed in once more as they ran one after another out of the mountain, which was now falling in on them. The light of day hit them, and Dúvainiel squinted her sensitive eyes at the sudden brightness

From high on the side of the mountain, the four of them looked down at the river. Aragorn fell to his knees at the sight of the ships sailing towards Gondor. She felt his defeat- without the Army of the Undead, they would be unable to stop the Corsairs. Legolas put a comforting hand on Aragorn's shoulder as they stared silently at the ships.

The sound of rushing wind could be heard, and they turned towards the mountain. The dead king came through the wall.

"We fight," he said.

Dúvainiel turned to Legolas and grinned, and the four of them were off and running again, down the steep slope and ahead of the ships, to stop them.

They reached the bottom just in time and stood at the waters edge. Aragorn leaned his sword against his shoulder.

"You may go no further," he called to the captain of the lead ship. "You will not enter Gondor."

"Who are you to deny us passage?" the captain challenged.

"Legolas," Aragorn said, "fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear."

Legolas pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it on his bow.

"Mind your aim," Gimli said.

Dúvainiel looked down at the Dwarf just in time to see him hook the blade of his ax on Legolas' bow and jerk it, just as Legolas let go. She looked up as the arrow embedded itself into one of the pirates. The pirate cried out and fell.

"That's it," Gimli said as the ship began to sail by. "We warned you. Prepare to be boarded."

The pirates laughed. "Boarded? By you and whose army?"

"This army," Aragorn whispered smugly.

The wind howled past them as the Army of the Undead materialized out of the mountain. Within seconds, the pirates lay dead and the ships were being sailed by soldiers of the undead king. Dúvainiel and the others swam out to the lead ship.

They sailed through the night towards Gondor. It was quiet, and peaceful. Like the calm that came before a storm. When the light of dawn came, they could see the smoke far in the distance. Dúvainiel wondered if they were too late.

They were getting closer, and Dúvainiel looked over the edge of the ship and watched the water rush by. Legolas came and stood beside her. She turned to him and smiled a sad smile. She wondered if they would ever have peace again. Then she turned towards the middle of the ship, pulled her sword out of its sheath, and got down on her knees. She laid the sword on the ground in front of her. Legolas went to his knees beside her as she started to sing.

I edmôr men (_The dark road stretches before us_),

An gomín ertha(_But together we stand_),

An ta naa al'aglar (_For it is not glory_)

Ta naa al'mirian (_It is not riches_)

Al'ara naa ta (_neither is it honor_)

An man lye maeth (_for which we fight_)

An ta naa an lain (_For it is for freedom_)

A an lain (_And for that freedom_)

Goinnas heberthad (_We will continue to stand_)

Dartha I methen ned I gardh (Unto the ending of the world) 

TBC


	5. Return of the King A Rewrite Part 2

The boat came to a stop and they heard a voice from the dock.

"Late as usual! Pirate scum! There's knife work that needs doing."

Dúvainiel looked at Legolas as she reached for her sword, and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Come on you sea rats! Get off your ships!"

Aragorn leapt over the edge of the ship and down to the docks, followed by Gimli, Legolas, and Dúvainiel.

The orcs standing on the dock paused, not realizing that they were not the pirates they had been waiting for, and as the four of them moved towards the orcs she heard Gimli.

"There's plenty for the both of us," he said to Legolas. "May the best dwarf win."

Dúvainiel grinned madly as she moved forward with her sword drawn. The Army of the Undead appeared from the ships and charged the orcs. Dúvainiel began her own count as she worked her way through them.

She used her sword instead of her bow and arrows, and made quick work of the orcs coming at her. The Army of the Undead helped them immensely, and she was thankful they had decided to stand with Aragorn.

They fought their way towards the White City, and Dúvainiel noticed riders from Rohan mixed in all the fighting. As they got closer to the city, she also noticed that they weren't just fighting orcs, and the Oliphaunts ridden by the Men of Harad were proving to be a vicious force used against them. In one sweep, one Oliphaunt took out seven or eight horses and their riders.

"Legolas!" Dúvainiel heard Aragorn's voice, and turned quickly at the tone of panic. She was relieved to see that it had only been a warning of an Oliphaunt moving towards Legolas, and he quickly moved to not only avoid being hurt by it, but to climb it. Dúvainiel quickly turned back just in time to defend herself against an orc.

She started backing away, moving closer to Aragorn's side, and as she turned to find him, she saw an orc raising his weapon behind the Ranger. Dúvainiel pulled a dagger from her waist and threw it at the orc, hitting him square in the neck. Aragorn turned and saw the orc fall and then turned back to Dúvainiel, and quickly nodded his thanks, before he pulled his sword back to attack another enemy. Dúvainiel, herself kept swinging her sword, and all around her, orcs were falling.

She heard the mournful moan of an Oliphaunt and turned just in time to see it crash to the ground, close enough that the weight of the crash made the ground shake under her feet. Legolas slid down its trunk and hopped to the ground, and then gave her a look that said, 'Well… nothing to it then.'

"That still only counts as one," Gimli hollered at the blonde Elf.

Legolas pulled an arrow and began firing once more, and the battle raged on.

Some time later, the Army of the Undead was finishing off the enemies who were retreating and Dúvainiel looked around. The ground was littered with so many men, and orcs, and horses. She looked around for Legolas- it had been a while since she had seen him. She found him with Gimli. They were sitting on the back of an orc who lay dead. She walked up to them.

"My count was 73," Legolas said proudly.

Gimli looked at him and grinned, "73? 73?? That's not bad for a pointy-eared elvish princeling. I had 75."

Dúvainiel stifled a giggle at the dwarf's words, but grinned and shook her head. She pulled a small dagger from the sheath inside her boot and threw it at their feet. They both looked up at her in surprise.

"I had 89," she told them smugly. Both of them looked at her in awe, and she giggled then turned to more serious matters- first, to look for Aragorn. Once she saw that he was safe, and apparently uninjured, she began looking at the faces of the men who lay dead on the ground as she walked around them.

A quiet settled over the field as the clouds gave way to the sun. Briefly, Dúvainiel looked up at Minas Tirith, and couldn't help but think that it was beautiful. She reluctantly turned to the bodies once more.

She spotted a face she recognized, and gasped.

Théoden lay on the ground under his horse- he was dead.

Dúvainiel turned back to find Aragorn, to tell him, and saw that he was speaking with the King of the Undead.

"I hold your oath fulfilled," Aragorn said. "Go. Be at peace." The King smiled and the entire army disappeared on the wind.

Dúvainiel noticed that Gandalf had emerged from the city, and her heart swelled with happiness to see him alive. He had been watching the exchange with Aragorn and the Undead, and when Aragorn looked at Gandalf, the wizard bowed to the man. Dúvainiel knew, by claiming the oath of the Undead, Aragorn had stepped into his unwanted role of the King of Gondor.

Just then she heard a gut-wrenching scream, and she turned to see Éomer, who dropped his sword and his helmet and ran towards a figure laying on the ground.

Dúvainiel gasped again when she recognized who it was.

"Éowyn…" she whispered.

Éomer took his sister in his arms, and cried as he looked around the field as though hoping that someone there held an answer to his pain. Dúvainiel ran over to the siblings. She ran her hands over Éowyn and then looked at the man, who was now cradling the shieldmaiden in his arms.

"Éomer," Dúvainiel said to the distraught man, "she's alive." He looked up at her, his eyes filled with hope. "We must get her inside the city."

Éomer lifted his sister into his arms, and they made their way as briskly as they could into the city. Once inside the gates, a Gondorian guard led them to the Houses of Healing.

Long into the night, the others searched for survivors out on the Fields of Pelennor while Dúvainiel worked feverishly to save Éowyn's life. Éomer never left his sister's side. Dúvainiel wondered if he knew his uncle was dead.

When there was no more that she could do, she turned to Éomer, and hugged him briefly, and then moved silently on to the others who were wounded.

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun was up, Legolas came in carrying Merry. Pippin walked with him. She was busy working on one of the Gondorian men, but she saw Legolas find a place for the Halfling, and then Pippin tended to his friend. Dúvainiel turned back to the man, who had a broken arm and two arrow wounds. The arm had already been set, and the wounds tended to, but the dressings needed to be changed. He flinched in his sleep as she cleaned the first wound and then opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You're an elf," he croaked.

She turned slightly and reached for a glass of water and helped him sit up a little to drink.

"I am called Dúvainiel," she told him.

He laid back down, and she redressed the first wound, then cleaned the second.

"I'm Faramir, son of Denethor," he said, his voice now more clear. She looked at his face, startled. Her eyes met his, and she entered his mind, searching for confirmation.

"Remember this day, little brother," she saw Boromir tell the man.

She pulled out of his mind. "You're Boromir's brother."

A look of sadness crossed his face and for a moment, she regretted bringing up the name.

"I lost my brother in battle, too," she said as she dressed the second wound. "But we will make them proud, won't we?"

She didn't wait for his answer as she got up and moved to the next wounded man. The emotional exhaustion was beginning to wear on her.

The loss of Boromir, of King Théoden, Éowyn and Evenstar both on the brink of death… Haldir. And all the ones whose names she didn't know, laying out on Pelennor Fields, and all the elves she _did_ know that died at Helm's Deep. Right then and there, it all seemed so senseless as the weight of the losses hit her and she sniffled as a tear prickled the corner of her eye.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she jumped.

"Come," Legolas said when she looked at him. "You're exhausted. You need to rest."

She started to protest, but he cut her off, "You're no use to anyone in this state. It's better to rest for a while. You can come back."

She nodded, knowing he was right, and allowed him to lead her away.

She wondered where they would go, but he seemed to know, as he led them up to the top of the city. They walked into the Citadel, and she noticed the King's throne. To the right of the throne was an archway with stairs just through it, and that was where Legolas led her. At the top, he turned left, and they walked over a balcony, which looked down on the throne room. He turned right and entered a hallway.

"This is the royal wing," he said as he led her down the hall. Servants were bustling about in a flurry to impress their new leader. Just then Gandalf rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and Dúvainiel smiled when she saw him.

"Ah, Dúvainiel," he said as he walked up to them. "It is so good to see that you are well."

Dúvainiel gave the wizard a fierce embrace, and echoed his sentiments. She had been quite relieved when she saw him emerge from the city gates.

Gandalf pulled away from her, but held her by the arms and looked in her face, "It's time for you to rest, my dear. You are much too weary." He looked at Legolas, standing beside her. "I see you are in capable hands," he said, his eyes sparkled knowingly.

He squeezed one of her arms and let go, and continued on his path out of the hall. Legolas took her arm, and ushered her into a room.

She noticed immediately that someone had brought her weapons and pack to the room. She vaguely remembered having taken them off in the Houses of Healing.

The beauty of the room nearly took her breath away. She had not imagined that Men were capable of such intricacy, not only in the engraved stone walls but also in the furniture. In every part of the room, the Gondorian emblem of the white tree was present- engraved in the wood of the four poster bed, and desk, as well as carved into the stone walls. The velvet bedding was colored in rich purples, and a vase filled with flowers set on the bed table. She immediately felt the feminine presence in the room, a princess of old. She smiled.

Two slender arched windows allowed her a view down to the bottom of the city and across the plain, and she walked over and looked out, just as the sun was rising. Legolas walked over and stood behind her, and in the silence of dawn, they looked at the quiet city. It was hard to believe that such a battle had taken place only yesterday. Dúvainiel felt sorrowful, knowing that it was not over for them. She turned slightly and leaned into Legolas, who put his arms around her and kissed her head.

"Come," he said. "You must rest."

She did not argue as he led her to the bed. She pulled off her cloak, breast plate, and vembrances, and lay down.

She watched as he walked away from the bed towards the door, and then stopped to look back at her from the doorway. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and closed the door as he walked out.

She stared at the door for a few minutes, wishing for his company, before she closed her eyes and fell to sleep quickly.

The sounds of footsteps and female whispered woke her, and she opened her eyes and watched as women went in and out her door. She sat up and saw a tray of food sitting on the bed stand in place of the vase of flowers, which had been moved to the desk.

"My lady," a voice said softly.

She turned and saw a woman standing near the doorway. She bowed to Dúvainiel.

"My lady, your bath is ready."

Dúvainiel had no idea what she was talking about, but she pulled herself off the bed and allowed the woman to lead her to a small room adjacent to the bedroom, which appeared to be a bathing room.

"I am called Avelina," the maid said.

The bath water was filled nearly to the top, and the smell of the salts filled Dúvainiel's nose. It was a pleasant and soft flower aroma that reminded her of merils (_roses_).

Avelina left her alone, and Dúvainiel stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water. By the time the water had cooled, she was clean and felt refreshed once more. The sleep she had needed, but the bath really helped to rejuvenate her. She reluctantly pulled herself out, knowing that her elven skills would still be needed in the Houses of Healing, and she quickly dried herself and dressed in a dark blue gown that had been left for her in the bathing room.

She went back into the bedroom once more, and found a pair of soft, slipper-like shoes that had been left for her, and though they were slightly large for her small feet, she wore them anyways, and then ignoring the tray of food that had been left for her, she headed down to the Houses of Healing.

She had not seen Legolas since dawn, and was disappointed to see that he was not in the healing room, but she got to work anyway.

A nursemaid pointed out the most seriously injured- the ones who could really use her elven skill, and she spent the next hours working to save their lives. She had been told that the warriors with less serious injuries had been moved to a different hall, but was saddened to see that injured men were still being brought in from the fields. She noticed that Éowyn was no longer being kept here and briefly wondered if she had died while Dúvainiel was resting. She prayed that was not the case.

Silently, Dúvainiel worked, until she heard soft steps walk up behind her. She was sewing a deep wound in the man's torso when she breathed in the familiar scent of sandalwood and fir. She smiled.

"Hold this," she said to Legolas, not even looking at him as she pulled the stitch taut and handed him the needle. He took it without question, and she began a second stitch to hold it in place. "Thank you," she looked at him and smiled as she took the first needle back from him.

"The King has requested the council of the Fellowship," Legolas told her.

"Of course," she nodded. "Let me wash my hands."

She walked to the nearest basin and cleaned herself up, and Legolas led her back up to the Citadel and into the throne room, where she saw Gimli, Gandalf, and Éomer. Gimli sat in the Steward's chair, smoking his pipe.

"Where are Merry and Pippin?" she whispered to Legolas as they walked towards the throne.

"Merry is still in the ward," he responded. "Pippin refused to leave his side."

"I didn't see him."

"He was moved to the other ward. He should be up and around by this afternoon," the Elf said as they came to stand by their companions.

She looked at Éomer. His expression, as usual, gave nothing away.

"And Éowyn?" she asked, bracing herself for the worst.

Éomer's face softened almost imperceptibly. "She will recover," the man told her.

Dúvainiel breathed a sigh of relief and put her hand on Éomer's arm. "I'm sorry about Theoden," she said to him.

He looked as though he was going to reply, when Aragorn entered the room.

"Has there been any news of Frodo?" the king asked.

"None," Legolas replied.

"Gandalf?"

All eyes turned to the wizard, who looked away from the group and then closed his eyes. The hall was silent as they waited, and he finally turned to the group, who each looked at him expectantly.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," he said. "The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had The Ring, we would now it," Aragorn insisted.

"It's only a matter of time," Gandalf responded. "He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

Dúvainiel's throat tightened at the wizard's words, but they didn't seem to faze Gimli at all.

"Let him stay there," the Dwarf said. "Let him rot. Why should we care?"

Dúvainiel looked him in disbelief. Did he truly not understand the seriousness of the situation?

"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," she told him. She looked to Gandalf for confirmation. Dúvainiel noticed how old he looked as he closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"I have sent him to his death."

Dúvainiel's heart went out to her friend and she longed to comfort him. But before she could say anything, Aragorn beat her to it.

"No," he said. "There's still hope for Frodo."

Dúvainiel looked at him questioningly.

"He needs time," he went on, "and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli asked.

"Draw out Sauron's armies, empty his lands," Aragorn responded. "Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

"We can not achieve victory through strength of arms," Éomer commented. "Not for ourselves," Aragorn said, focusing on the other man. "But we can give Frodo his chance, if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us." "Of course," Dúvainiel added. "Keep him blind to all else that moves." "A diversion," Legolas cut in. 

"Certainty of death," Gimli said from the Steward's chair. "Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?'

Dúvainiel grinned at the dwarf.

"Sauron will suspect a trap," Gandalf mentioned. "He will not take the bait." "No, I think he will," Aragorn said confidently. "We ride at dawn." With that, the decision was made and he strode past the group and to the stairs that led to the royal quarters. Gandalf followed, calling his name. "I'm going to visit Éowyn," Éomer muttered. "Éomer," Dúvainiel called to him as he walked away. "May I join you?" "Of course, my lady." She looked at Legolas, and nodded, telling him with her eyes that she would see him later, and then jogged the length of the hall to catch up with Éomer, who held his arm out to her. She took it and the two returned to the Houses of Healing, where he led them to the ward of the less seriously injured. Immediately, she noticed that Éowyn was not alone. She sat propped up on the cot, her eyes sparkled and her soft laugh filled the room, as Faramir sat next to her, speaking in low tones. Dúvainiel was pleased for the woman- Faramir seemed genuinely taken with her. "Dúvainiel!" She stopped when she heard her name, and turned towards the speaker. Two little Hobbits ran up to her and hugged her fiercely. Éomer continued his walk to his sister's side, and Dúvainiel noticed that Faramir shook the other man's hand and then abandoned the chair next to Éowyn, so that her brother could sit with her. "How are you feeling, Merry?" Dúvainiel asked, turning her attention back to the little folk. "Never better," Merry replied. "Well, there was the time when we…" Pippin started, but was interrupted by a man's raised voice, and the three of them turned to see Éomer and Éowyn having a disagreement. "You're NOT going, Éowyn, and that's my final word," Éomer was saying. "Your final word?"' Éowyn said incredulously. Éomer stood and walked away, his face contorted in anger. "Stupid, stupid girl," he muttered loudly as he stormed out of the ward. Éowyn looked crushed at her brother's words, and tears slid down her cheeks as she began to sob. Dúvainiel was torn between comforting the girl or having a word with Éomer, and when she saw that Faramir returned to Éowyn's side, she went after Éomer. "Excuse me, my friends," she said to the Hobbits, and rushed out of the ward. "What was that about?" she heard Pippin ask before she was out of hearing range. "Éomer!" she called once she was out of the building. Éomer continued walking as if he had not heard her. She quickened her steps to catch up to him and grasped his arm when she reached his side. He stopped and looked at her, his expression still stormy. 

"I understand that you are angry with Éowyn," she started.

"Angry does not even begin to explain how I feel, Dúvainiel," he said, turning and walking away from her once more.

"You must be relieved by her recovery," Dúvainiel said, falling into step with him once more.

"Of course I am," he replied. "But the foolish little _girl_ wants to join the army in the march on the Black Gates. She has learned nothing from the Battle at Pelennor Fields."

"Éowyn is not a little girl, Éomer," Dúvainiel said, suddenly feeling like she was speaking to her own brother.

Éomer stopped and grabbed Dúvainiel by both arms, "_É__owyn_ has no more business out on the battle field than _you do_."

Dúvainiel bristled at his words, "Excuse me?"

Éomer moved closed to Dúvainiel, and she felt offended by his invasion into her personal space, "War is no place for a _woman_. A woman's place is in the home, to make life comfortable for her husband and to keep his bed warm."

Dúvainiel jerked herself free from Éomer's grasp, shocked by his suggestive tone. She reached her arm back and firmly slapped him across his face, so hard that her hand stung from the force of it. The anger in his eyes darkened.

"If you were a _man_, I would strike you for that," he said in a low tone.

"Don't let that stop you," she snapped.

He didn't reply, but the anger in his face faded after a few moments, and the expression was replaced by one that seemed remorseful.

"Éomer," Dúvainiel said, trying again. "No matter what your belief about a woman's place, Éowyn desires to fight for the freedom of Middle Earth. Our fight is not over. You are all she has left now, and you just told her that you are going to battle once more. It is likely that none of us will return. Do you really want to leave things the way you just left them?"

Éomer sighed. "I'm sorry, my lady, if I offended your honor," he said to her, and then turned and walked back in the direction of the Houses of Healing.

Dúvainiel stared at his retreating back in wonderment. Men were so flighty! She turned from him and made her way back up to the top of the city in search of Legolas.

After a lengthy search, she gave up and walked to the tip of the uppermost level of the city and looked out towards Mordor. The clouds in the distance were grey and every so often, an angry orange light flared in the reflection of them. Dúvainiel shivered involuntarily. Tomorrow they would take their last stand. Dúvainiel wondered how many of them would fall by way of Boromir and Theoden.

She sighed deeply.

"My lady," a deep voice said from behind her.

Dúvainiel turned to see Aragorn.

"Your Highness," she said and bowed to the king.

His mouth puckered slightly in annoyance, and Dúvainiel bit back a grin. Poor Aragorn would never feel comfortable with his title.

He came up to stand beside her and they both looked across the fields toward Mordor.

"Will you be staying here tomorrow?" Aragorn said after a long moment of silence.

Dúvainiel looked at him, surprised by the question.

"They could use your elven skill in the Houses of Healing," he explained.

"My duty is to the Ringbearer," she replied. "I will stand beside you at The Black Gates."

He nodded his head, seemingly satisfied by her answer.

A comfortable silence fell between them, and for long minutes, they stood in the quiet of the evening and watched the orange reflecting in the clouds in the distance.

"Do you really think it will work?" she finally asked, her eyes still focused on the clouds in the distance.

He looked at her for a long moment. "Yes, I do," he answered, then turned back to look towards Mordor once more.

"What if we fail? What if you don't return?"

"Destroying The One Ring is all that matters," he responded.

She looked at him then, and he turned back to her. Determination filled his features, and Dúvainiel felt hope well up within her. She nodded at him, and placed her hand on his arm. She gave it a light squeeze and let go, and turned back towards Mordor.

"I shall take my leave now," he told her. "Losto vae (_Sleep well_), Dúvainiel."

"Losto vae," she responded.

Aragorn turned to walk away, but before he got more than a few steps, she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Elessar," she said.

He looked at her face questioningly.

She looked into his eyes and paused, wondering if she should tell him what was on her mind. Deciding to go ahead, she said, "We'll save her in time."

He gave her a surprised look, but then his expression changed to determination once more. He didn't ask her how she knew about Arwen, instead he nodded and turned and walked away once more. Dúvainiel sighed. She took once last glance toward Mordor, and then turned and followed Aragorn towards the citadel.

She wondered around inside looking for Legolas, but couldn't find him. She wondered where he had been all day. She decided to go back to her room and bathe and ready herself for the next day.

Avelina was in Dúvainiel's room when she arrived.

"My lady," the maid said, and curtsied to the elleth.

"Good evening to you, Avelina," Dúvainiel said.

"I brought you a sleeping gown, miss," the woman replied.

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can get for you miss?"

"No, Avelina. Thank you," Dúvainiel replied.

"Good night then, miss," the maid said.

Dúvainiel said nothing, but watched as the woman left the room. She walked over to the bed and picked up the nightgown that had been left for her. She then decided to skip the bath, and changed her clothes and laid down on the bed. She faced toward the window, and looked out at the stars. She missed Legolas, even though she had seen him earlier that day. She had hoped to spend the night curled in the comfort and strength of his arms. Who knew what was going to happen once they reached Mordor?

She must have fallen asleep, because it seemed some time later when she felt the bed shift. An arm reached around her and stilled her movement as she tried to turn to see who it was. The scent of fir and sandalwood filled her nostrils and she relaxed in her prince's arms.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered in her ear.

She turned in his arms and put her arms around him. "Le melin," she whispered.

The prince kissed her lightly on her forehead and as she drifted back to sleep she heard him whisper, "Oltho vae (_Sweet dreams_)"

TBC


	6. Return of the King A Rewrite Part 3

When Dúvainiel woke, it was still dark out. Legolas had an arm still wrapped firmly around her.

"Legolas," Dúvainiel whispered as she shook him softly. His eyes focused on her as he woke, and she smiled. She propped herself up on her elbow and placed her other hand on Legolas' smooth chest. He grinned at her and pulled her down to him and their lips met in a soft but passionate kiss.

Dúvainiel broke the kiss and looked into the ellon's eyes. "We should get ready," she said, her voice still in a whisper.

He pulled her to him once more, and she gave in to him without a fight. Their lips were just about to touch when a knock at the door interrupted them. Embarrassed, Dúvainiel pulled away and held the covers tight over her body, even though she was clothed.

"Come in," Legolas said, a wide grin on his face.

A maid opened the door and ushered in two other maids, who each carried a tray filled with food. They placed the trays on tables in the room, and then left, giggling as they went. Dúvainiel blushed in embarrassment as Legolas let out a hearty laugh. She picked up a pillow and popped him with it.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked him, hardly containing her own laughter at his surprised expression.

He picked up a pillow of his own and smacked her. She gave an indignant shriek.

"You asked for it now, Your Highness," she said as she drew her pillow back behind her once more, and then thrust it toward him. He fell out of the bed, trying to avoid it, and she chuckled as she leaned over the edge to see him sitting on the floor. He looked up and saw her amused expression, and then too quickly for her to react, he reached up and pulled her down on the floor with him. The stone was hard and cold, but it didn't keep either one of them from their laughter.

Finally, his expression turned serious, and he reached up and caressed her cheek. "I want you to stay here today," he said.

The happiness she had been feeling died with his words and she gave him a stunned expression.

"Why?" she whispered.

Legolas took her hands in his and looked down at them. After a moment of silence, he looked back at her face.

"I could not bear it, if something happened to you," he told her.

She pulled one hand out of his grasp and placed it on top of his hands. "And I could not bear it if something happened to you," she responded. "I guess that means you have to stay too." She gave him a weak smile and pulled away from him, stood and walked to the window.

He picked himself up off the floor and joined her at the window. He stood behind her and put his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out at the fields.

"You know I can not," he whispered in her ear.

She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to breathe slowly as a lump welled in her throat.

"As you know I can not," she replied. "This is a road we must travel on together."

"I know," his whispers tickled her ear. "But it was worth a try, to keep you safe."

She turned in his arms and embraced him, a smile gracing her lips at his words. He responded by tightening his grip around her. They stood in the embrace for many minutes, until he finally let go, and kissed her on the top of her head.

"You should eat," he said as he pulled away from her.

As if in reply, her stomach gave a loud growl, and she giggled. Dúvainiel could not remember the last time she had eaten, so she was thankful that the maids had brought the morning meal. She sat at the desk, and Legolas pulled a chair over and sat beside her and they ate in silence, the weight of what was to come hung heavily between them.

Legolas finished first and got up to put his shirt on. He walked back over to Dúvainiel and kissed her on top of her head.

"I'll come back to get you in a little while," he said.

Dúvainiel smiled at him and watched him leave the room. She finished her meal, and then changed her clothes back into her war costume. Once she was dressed, she brushed out her long, dark hair and then pulled the top and sides back and plaited it, leaving the rest hanging loose. It was not quite the style the ellon warriors wore, but it was close. There was a knock at the door as she was putting Haldir's vembrances on her wrists.

"Come in," she called. She looked up as the door opened, and Legolas stood there, also fully clothed in his warrior outfit, which had been cleaned the day before.

"It's time," he said to her. She nodded and walked over to the wall, which her swords and bow were leaning against. She looked at the two swords, the one Galadriel had given her, and her brother's. She decided not to take her bow, and she sheathed Haldir's sword on her back and the Lady's gift at her waist. She then turned her attention back to Legolas.

"Let's go," she said.

She walked to the open door, and stopped in front of him. He looked so regal, and yet so deadly at the same time.

"Dúvainiel," he said in a low tone. Their eyes locked and she set her hand on his shoulder. He in turn, reached up to the back of her neck and then ran his fingers through her hair.

"Legolas," she whispered.

Time seemed to go on forever as they looked into the depths of each others' eyes, each wanting to say what needed to be said between them, and neither able to bring themselves to do it in their final moment alone together before what could very well be the end for all of them.

"Legolas!" A gruff voice called from down the hall.

The spell between the two Elves broke instantly, and both turned in the direction of the interruption.

"Aragorn sent me to find you and the lassie," Gimli said. Dúvainiel moved out of the room, and Legolas shut the door behind them. "Are you ready?" the Dwarf asked.

"Yes," Dúvainiel replied, as she looked again at Legolas.

Gimli looked from one to the other, and then cleared his voice, "We should go." He then turned and made his way back down the hall from the direction that he had come from. Legolas put his hand on the small of Dúvainiel's back and ushered her forward, and then followed from behind.

Gimli led them down the hall and around the corners, down the stairs and through the throne room and finally outside to the court yard at the top level of the city. Dozens of horses and Gondorian soldiers stood waiting for the king to give the signal. Aragorn stood with Gandalf and Éomer, each holding the reins of their horses, except Gandalf, who rode Shadowfax without restraints. The stallion stood quietly with the wizard. Dúvainiel was surprised to see that Aragorn had Brego's reigns. She wondered how he had found his way to Minas Tirith. Her surprise deepened when a Gondorian soldier stepped forward to hand her the reins of Ésha, and Legolas the reins of Arod.

"Legolas?" She asked the Elf walking beside her, "How did they get here?"

"Oh, I meant to tell you," he replied. "Éomer said they returned to Dunharrow just as the Rohirrim was riding out. They were brought with the riders."

Dúvainiel took the reins from the soldier and thanked him, then gave her mare a rub on the nose. It was eerily still and quiet, with only the sounds of a couple of horses, who, sensing the anxiety of their riders, became nervous themselves.

Dúvainiel looked at Aragorn. Gone was the torn leather overcoat and Ranger outfit, replaced by a regal outfit he looked resplendent in, befitting the King of Gondor. Fresh, clean breeches had been made available to him, along with new, silver chain mail, which he wore under a brilliant black, leather jerkin that had an embroidered white tree of Gondor on the chest. He shoulders, arms and legs were covered in matching armor. He wore new leather boots, and a new black and red cloak completed the regal look. His hair was now clean, and pulled back away from his face. He now looked the part of the king that he was.

Suddenly, two voices disturbed the uneasy silence.

"I told you not to waste all that time eating, Pip," Merry said, fussing over his friend.

"But I was hungry, Merry," Pippin replied.

Aragorn cleared his throat as the Hobbits reached them, and they fell silent and looked at the man. "If we could go now?" He asked with an arched brow.

The Hobbits both nodded, and Aragorn called out, "Mount up."

Dúvainiel pulled herself into the saddle and looked at those around her.

Pippin and Gandalf would be riding together. Dúvainiel had not had a chance to speak to Gandalf, and hear from him about what all had happened since he came to the White City, and now she looked with sadness at him, wondering if she would ever get the chance.

Éomer pulled Merry up behind him on his horse. This surprised Dúvainiel, but she knew it was because he had fought in the fields of Pelennor as a Rohan soldier, and therefore, would always be held as such in the eyes of the Rohirrim.

Gimli and Legolas rode together once more. Dúvainiel tried to squash the jealous feeling. How she longed to ride with the other Elf of the group, but she knew that Gimli would not be able to ride a horse on his own, and so she would just have to deal with sharing Legolas for the ride.

Dúvainiel rode alone, though she wished to share her mount. She felt a little lonely, knowing that everyone else in their group but Aragorn, would be riding two to a horse.

Aragorn clicked to Brego and nudged the horse forward. Gandalf and Éomer followed directly behind, then Legolas and Dúvainiel rode side by side behind them. After the Elves, the soldiers lined up. Aragorn led them down the many levels of the city and out of the gate. As they rode in silence, soldiers lined up at the end, and by the time they got out to the fields, the line stretched for a couple miles. The men of Gondor would die for their newfound king.

Hours passed, and the silence weighed heavily on them all. Dúvainiel wondered what Legolas was thinking about. He had not looked at her in a while. Then she wondered what Aragorn was thinking about, and knew he must be focused on saving Arwen. As the land grew more barren, Dúvainiel pondered if Aragorn's plan would really work. She tried not to think about what would happen if they failed.

Finally, the Black Gate came into sight, and a feeling of dread swept over Dúvainiel. The soldiers dismounted from their horses and marched in formation until Aragorn called for them to stop. The group looked at the Black Gate, and Dúvainiel expected it to open.

"Where are they?" she heard Pippin whisper. Aragorn gave Brego a nudge, and loped forward. Gandalf, Éomer, Legolas, Dúvainiel, and a soldier carrying the banner of Gondor all did the same and rode by the king's side to the front of the gates.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth," Aragorn called. "Let justice be done upon him!"

There was a moment of silence, and then a deep creaking sound, as the gates opened just enough to let a single rider out. He rode a solid black horse, which was covered in black and silver tack and armor. The rider was also completely covered in heavy garments and armor, matching the colors of the horse's. All that could be seen was his mouth, an ugly mass of bleeding, cracked lips and long, sharp, blackened teeth. The head armor he wore, gave an appearance that made him look like an emissary. Dúvainiel noticed that the armor around the mouth was engraved in Cirth runes, and said "Voice of The Abhorred Dread". She shivered involuntarily as the rider came to a stop before them.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids the welcome," he said. As he spoke, blood seemed to spit out of the filthy mouth. He opened his mouth wide, in a hideous grin as he cocked his head slightly to the side. Then the side of his lip curled up, "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron," Gandalf said, "faithless and accursed. Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

"Aha!" the Mouth snarled. "Old Grey-beard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He reached down to his saddle and pulled up a small silver shirt. Dúvainiel recognized it as being Frodo's. She thought back to those first days when the Fellowship had been in Lothlorien, and Merry and Pippin had told her the story of how Frodo had survived a cave troll's attack in the Mines of Moria, thanks to the mithril shirt.

"Frodo!" Dúvainiel heard Pippin whisper urgently. She looked over at him.

Sauron's emissary threw the shirt at Gandalf, who caught it swiftly.

"Frodo!" Pippin cried out. Dúvainiel's heart went out to the little Hobbit.

"Silence," Gandalf said urgently.

"No!" Merry cried.

"Silence!" Dúvainiel flinched as Gandalf's raised voice called to Frodo's friends. The Hobbits both became silent once more. Dúvainiel gave Merry a sympathetic look, then turned back to The Mouth as he began to speak again.

"Aw, the Halfling was dear to thee I see," he said with a sarcastic tone. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host." His head jerked. "Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did Gandalf, he did."

Dúvainiel unconsciously gripped Ésha's reins tighter. She looked at Legolas, the expression on his face warring between fury and sadness. Aragorn kicked Brego's sides and moved forward.

"And who is this?" The Mouth goaded. "Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a King than a broken Elvish blade."

Before the emissary could taunt Aragorn again and faster than most eyes could see, the Man pulled his sword out and swung it around to cut off the other's head. Dúvainiel gasped and then gaped at the king.

Aragorn looked at Gandalf, "I do not believe it." He spoke with such conviction, Dúvainiel found herself believing that Frodo was still alive. "I _will_ not."

The gates began to creak once more, and Dúvainiel looked over Aragorn's shoulder to see the gates opening again. Her heart seemed to stop as she saw the massive Army of Mordor marching towards them.

"Pull back," Aragorn said, as he pulled on Brego's reins. "Pull back!"

Dúvainiel pulled on Ésha's reins and turned her around and galloped back with the other riders.

The soldiers from Gondor and Rohan stood looking at the Mordor Army with wide, frightened eyes. Dúvainiel could empathize with them. She felt the same way. They were vastly outnumbered. She doubted any of them would survive.

"Hold your ground," Aragorn called, as the soldiers slowly backed away. "Hold your ground!" He pulled Brego in front of the group and spoke, "Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers. I see it in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight!"

He thrust his sword into the air, "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

The Men each pulled out their swords, and held them ready, a more confident look now upon each face. Aragorn wheeled Brego around towards the Black Gates, and the horse reared. Aragorn dismounted from the stallion, and the rest of the group still on horseback followed the king's lead. Dúvainiel pulled Ésha to her face, and nuzzled her horse's nose one last time, before she released the reins and let Ésha run with the other horses.

She watched the orcs advance as she stood between Éomer and Gimli. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pippin unsheathe his sword. She did the same, and held it ready.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," she heard Gimli say, and looked at him. He was talking to Legolas, of course.

"How about side by side with a friend?" Legolas asked with a small smile.

"Aye, I could do that," the Dwarf answer.

Legolas put a hand on Gimli's shoulder, and then looked over the Dwarf's head at Dúvainiel. Unwittingly, a tear fell down Dúvainiel's cheek as she looked at the other Elf. Unable to stop it, a second tear fell. She shook her head at him, and he nodded slowly, intentionally. No words needed to pass between them. She took a deep breath and looked back ahead of her.

Now that the Black Gate was open completely, Dúvainiel could see The Eye clearly. She gazed at it, amazed that it could be such a source of evil. A movement caught the corner of her eye, and she focused on Aragorn's back, shocked to see him lowering his sword, as he stepped forward a few paces. Then he turned back and looked at the group.

"For Frodo," he said softly.

Then he turned back towards the orcs and began running, his sword ready. Merry and Pippin ran past her, and she began to run too. As she ran, she heard an arrow whiz by her. Behind her, the entire army of Men had also started running, and within moments, the two armies were locked into the final battle.

Dúvainiel swung her sword and orcs around her began to fall. She alternately moved from offense to defense and back again. She looked around for Legolas, but didn't see him. Before she could look more, she was on the defense again. She heard a screech and looked up to see a group of Nazgul moving in towards them. The sound hurt her sensitive elven ears so badly, she wanted to cover them. Just as they began to descend on the army, another screech was heard.

"The eagles!" she heard Pippin cry out. Dúvainiel looked up once more, just in time to see a Giant Eagle intercept one of the Nazgul. As she did, a sword slashed deep into her leg. She looked down in surprise and saw an orc grinning at her, his sword still embedded in her thigh. She pulled her sword back and slashed him across the neck. He fell at her feet, just as another orc moved towards her.

The pain in her leg was excruciating, but she knew she could not give in to it, or she would be killed. She felt her hot, sticky blood running down her leg, and put one hand against it, hoping to stop the flow, as she defended an incoming blow. Just when she felt like she would pass out, she heard a different kind of screeching. Everything around her suddenly stopped, and when she looked up, she saw the Eye flared in flames. Barad Dûr began to crumble and collapse and the orcs that had been fighting against them began to run. As the top of the tower came lower to the ground, the Eye grew smaller and smaller, and then finally exploded.

A shock wave moved across the plains of Mordor and out past their group and Dúvainiel fell to her knees when it hit her. She did not have the strength to stay on her feet any longer. She had lost too much blood by now, and she knew, she was about to die. She looked around for Legolas, wanting to tell him one last time how much she loved him.

"Dúvainiel!" she heard a voice say as the rest of her body fell to the ground. Strongs arms lifted her up, and she tried desperately to focus on the face.

"Hold on," Éomer said.

Then, the world went black.

TBC


	7. An Interlude

An Interlude

Dúvainiel was running through the massive mallorn trees of the Golden Wood. Her long brown hair flowed behind her as she dodged in and out, laughing as she ran.

"There she is, Rumil!" she heard Orophin's voice.

She hid behind a smaller tree and looked up. The branch was low enough, so she jumped as high as she could and grabbed on, and then pulled herself up, ripping her dress a little as she stepped on the skirt. She climbed higher, until the green leaves mostly hid her, and then laid on the branch and looked down at the forest floor. She could just make out the top of a blond head between the leaves as someone stopped under the tree.

"Where did she go?" Rumil's voice drifted to her ears.

"Dúvainiel?" Orophin called.

"Dúvainiel come on, this isn't funny," Rumil said seriously. "Haldir is going to kill us if we don't find her."

The brothers had been elfling-sitting, a charge Haldir rarely trusted them with. Today, however, Lady Galadriel had called for Haldir, and he had had no other choice but to leave his baby sister in the care of their brothers.

Dúvainiel giggled again, and Rumil jerked his head upwards. She became silent and still, and watched as her brothers whispered to each other briefly, and then left her line of sight.

"I guess she ran away," Orophin said sadly.

"Yes, I guess so," Rumil agreed. "And I was finally starting to like having her around."

Dúvainiel frowned at her brothers' words. She listened carefully as their footsteps got further away.

"Poor Haldir. I believe he was quite fond of her."

Dúvainiel pulled herself into a crouching position, then began to climb down the tree. When she got to the final branch, she stopped to listen once more for her brothers. Hearing nothing, she jumped to the ground.

"Got you!" Rumil said as he jumped out from behind the tree and grabbed Dúvainiel's arm.

"Rumil, that's not funny!" Dúvainiel cried. "You scared me!"

"How do you think we felt when you ran off like that and hid from us?" Orophin asked.

"I was only playing with you. I was going to come home," the little elleth replied.

"Of course you were. While we were out looking for you, you were going to return home and wait for Haldir to get home, and then get _us_ into trouble."

Dúvainiel crossed her arms at her chest, "No I wasn't." She looked from Rumil to Orophin and back again, but could tell neither of them believed her. They were both too used to her mischievous ways.

"Come on," Orophin said. "If we hurry, we can get back before Haldir."

The three siblings sprinted through the forest, back to their home, racing to see who would get there first. Orophin came crashing through the door first.

"I win!" he cried.

"Ooof!" came a sound from Rumil, who ran into Orophin, who had stopped just inside the door. Dúvainiel then crashed into Rumil, causing Orophin to lose his balance and the three of them fell to the floor.

"No fair, you're older!" she laughed. Dúvainiel looked up and saw Haldir sitting at the table, looking at the mass of his siblings with an expression of disdain. "Haldir, you're home!" The little elfling picked herself off her other brothers, and ran over to her eldest sibling, whom she looked at as though the sun and the moon rose and set on. She threw herself into his lap and hugged him tightly.

"Just where have you been?" Haldir asked the group. Rumil and Orophin had picked themselves up off the floor, and looked at Haldir sheepishly. Haldir in turn, looked at Dúvainiel. "What did you do?" he asked her.

Dúvainiel shrugged her shoulders and looked innocently at Haldir, then at Orophin and Rumil. "We were just playing hide and seek," she said as she looked back at Haldir.

Haldir gently pushed his baby sister off his lap and stood up.

"Thank you for watching her," he said, addressing Rumil and Orophin. They needed no further dismissal from their brother, and both breathed a sigh of relief as they turned and fled the talan.

Dúvainiel giggled as she watched the siblings make their escape, then she looked at Haldir, who was looking at her skeptically.

"You're quite a mess, young lady," he told her, caressing a spot of dirt on her cheek. "And you've torn another dress!"

Dúvainiel looked down at the torn skirt. "Well, if you wouldn't make me wear them, then I wouldn't tear them, Haldir," she tried to reason.

"Dúvainiel," he said after a sigh. "I've been to see the Lady." He walked over to the water basin and pulled a cloth off the shelf next to it. He dipped it in the water and returned to his sister, where he began cleaning the smudges off her cheeks. "Your days as a carefree wild elfling are over, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean, Haldir?" she asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Your education is about to begin. The Lady, and other elleths, will soon begin to teach you the lessons you will need as you become an adult, Little One."

She scrunched her nose up at the thought.

"Now, now, don't be that way. You're going to be learning new things along side other elleths your age, like Bara and Gwenel."

She knew now what lessons he was speaking of. All those feminine things, like sewing and cooking and such.

"But Haldir, I don't want to," she put her lip into a pout that usually worked on him.

"I'm sorry, Little One. It's time for you to become a Lady, like Nana."

"But you _promised_ to teach me how to use a bow!" she cried.

"And I will," he insisted. "But 'lady lessons' come first."

Dúvainiel scrunched her nose again, and Haldir laughed. He ruffled the hair on top of her head. "Poor Little One," he said. "I don't envy you."

"I don't _want_ to be a stupid lady. I want to be a warrior like you!"

"I'm sorry, Little One. Young elleths aren't warriors," he told her. "It's an ellon's job to protect his family."

Dúvainiel rolled her eyes. "I can too," she insisted. "I want to be like you, and Rumil and Orophin!" Tears now formed, and spilled down her cheeks. "It's not fair!" she wailed.

"But I already told you I would teach you how to use a bow," he tried to reason with her.

Still wailing, he could hardly understand her next sentence, "But that's not the same!"

"Don't you want to be like Nana?" he asked.

She shook her head furiously, and he began to get frustrated with her stubbornness. "Well I'm sorry," he said, "but you have no choice. You're _going_ to become a Lady."

Dúvainiel balled her fists and jerked her arms, "I hate you! You're always so mean to me!" She stomped past him and into her room, and slammed the door. She threw herself on her bed and wailed into her pillow, until she calmed down to a sob, and finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

Some time later, she woke up and her eyes focused on a feminine face. Her head was laying on a lap and someone was running fingers through her hair.

"Do you feel better, Dúvainiel?" Galadriel asked.

Dúvainiel sat up and looked away from the Lady.

"My Lady," she said softly.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Dúvainiel."

The younger elleth looked at the older one with interest.

"Some day," she whispered secretively, "you _will_ be a great warrior."

"I will?" Dúvainiel smiled. "How?"

The Lady smiled serenely. "You will also be a great Lady," she said.

Dúvainiel's brows furrowed in confusion. Could she _be_ a warrior and a Lady at the same time?

"I've informed Haldir," Galadriel said, "that in your spare time, you should be taught the ways of an elf warrior. You will learn archery, swordplay, and horseback riding, as well as healing, which you will also learn from me. As head strong as you are, I doubt any of us could keep you from it anyways."

"Orophin says I'm stubborn like Haldir," Dúvainiel said with a slight grin.

"Yes, and also your father," the Lady of the Wood replied. She put a hand under Dúvainiel's chin. "But you look just like your mother."

A sadness swept across both of them, and Galadriel patted Dúvainiel's hand.

"I will see you tomorrow morning," she said as she stood up and glided out of the room.

Dúvainiel got up from the bed and left the room to search for Haldir. He was in the main room, shutting the door after the Lady.

"Haldir?" Dúvainiel started, as she looked at the floor. "I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology, Little One."

She looked up to see him looking at her with amusement. She walked over to him, and hugged him tightly.

"You're my favorite brother, Haldir," she said as she squeezed him around the waist. "I don't hate you."

"I know you don't," he murmured, running his fingers through her tangled hair.

"I love you," she said, still squeezing. "We'll always be together, just you and me."

He laughed at her words as he pulled away, "You'll change your mind some day. When an ellon comes along and catches your eye, you'll leave your old brother behind and have a life and family of your own."

"Never," she grinned at him.

"Never is a long time, Little One." She rolled her eyes playfully. "Now come eat. Let's talk about your little adventure this afternoon with Rumil and Orophin."

Six months later, Dúvainiel had already learned many things about being a Lady and many things about being a warrior. She could sew a straight stitch, she could bake lembas, and most importantly to her, she could hold a bow correctly.

Today, however, was the most exciting day for her so far, because she was going to get to wear leggings and learn to ride a horse.

She was up before the sun, and before any of her brothers. She changed out of her night clothes and into the new riding clothes Haldir had given her the night before. She could barely eat breakfast because she was so excited. Finally it was time, and the four of them headed down to the stables. Haldir had picked out a nice bay mare for Dúvainiel, and he patiently taught her how to put on the saddle and tack.

For the next few hours, Haldir made her walk around the forest, leading her horse, Sirdail by the reins.

"Haldir?" she asked for probably the hundredth time. "When can I get on her?"

All three of her brothers were mounted and riding alongside her as she walked.

"All right," Haldir finally said. He stopped his horse and got off, then held the reins of Sirdail as Dúvainiel mounted. He handed her the reins. "Don't move. Don't do anything yet. Let her get used to you."

He got back up on his horse and looked at Dúvainiel. "Okay, now don't jerk the reins. Gently nudge her sides with your heels and get her walking."

Dúvainiel did exactly as she was told, and the mare began walking. She grinned at Haldir, who smiled back.

"You are doing very well," Haldir said with a tone of pride in his voice.

"Thank you," she replied.

"All right," he now instructed, "give her another little nudge and see if you can get her to trot. Only trot."

Again, Dúvainiel did as she was told, and began to bounce slightly in the saddle as Sirdail trotted along.

"Look!" Dúvainiel cried, "I'm doing it!"

The loudness of her voice seemed to spook Sirdail, who suddenly jumped slightly. Dúvainiel grabbed the reins harder and the horse reared. As she came down, Dúvainiel's legs hit the sides of the mare, and she bolted.

Dúvainiel screamed in surprise. The horse showed no signs of slowing, even as her rider pulled desperately at the reins. They darted in and out of trees, and finally, the horse made a swift direction change, and Dúvainiel lost her balance. She heard a sickening crunch as her leg hit a tree, and she landed on the forest floor with an "oof".

Stars seemed to whirl in her eyes as the pain in her leg was excruciating.

"Dúvainiel!" she heard Orophin call.

Suddenly, Haldir was kneeling beside her.

"Hold on," he said, as he picked her up off the ground.

She closed her eyes, and blacked out from the pain.

TBC


	8. The End?

Dúvainiel's mind slowly became aware that she was laying on a soft surface that was quite comfortable. She would have been content to lay there with her eyes shut, were it not for the throbbing pain in her leg. Her brows furrowed in pain and she moaned as she shifted.

"Dúvainiel?"

She opened her eyes slowly.

"Legolas?" she asked, confused. Hadn't she just been with her brothers? The ellon helped her sit up and then handed her a glass of water. She took it gratefully, and he sat on the bed next to her. "What happened?"

"You're leg was struck by an orc," he replied. Her brows furrowed again, this time in confusion. She closed her eyes, the image of Haldir, Orophin, Rumil, and the horses still fresh in her mind.

"It was just a dream," she murmured.

"What?" Legolas asked.

"I was having a dream," she explained. "About my brothers, and the day they first tried to teach me how to ride a horse."

She closed her eyes in pain, this time because she was feeling Haldir's loss again. The dream had felt so real. She had honestly felt that she was going to wake up and see the three of her older siblings fussing over her.

"Where are we, Legolas?" she asked, as she looked around the room for the first time since opening her eyes.

"Minas Tirith."

"And the Ring?"

"Destroyed," he said with a grin. Dúvainiel hoped that it had been in time to save Evenstar.

"Elessar?" she asked.

"Fine."

"Frodo and Sam?"

"Miraculously, they will both pull through. Dehydrated and exhausted, but they are survivors of this war." He put an arm around her and pulled her close to him. She sighed.

"My leg," she said.

"Yes, I can imagine it's quite painful. The cut was nearly to the bone," he told her. "It will take some time to heal completely."

"Where is Mithrandir?" she asked.

"He's watching over Frodo."

She closed her eyes briefly, thinking of the battle. Her eyes snapped open and she looked at Legolas, "Eomer?"

"He found you," Legolas replied. "He was nearly frantic when he saw you falter."

Dúvainiel's brows furrowed yet again. "Why?"

Legolas grinned, "I think he wanted to be able to say 'I told you so'."

Dúvainiel rolled her eyes in response, just as there was a knock at the door. Legolas rose from the bed to answer.

"Oh, Legolas," she heard a familiar voice when the door was opened. "How is the wee lass?"

Dúvainiel grinned at the Dwarf's words. "Better, Gimli. Come in."

Gimli leaned his body to look around Legolas, and smiled slightly at the sight of the elleth sitting up in the bed. Legolas moved so that he could enter the room, and Dúvainiel was amused to see he carried a handful of flowers.

"You gave us quite a scare," he said as he walked to the bed and handed her the flowers. She took them with a smile.

"Thank you, Gimli," she said. "My leg still hurts quite a bit, but it will be better in a few days."

The two Elves and the Dwarf talked for hours after that. They spoke of the War and all that had been lost and plans for the future. The three of them were grateful that they had a future to plan. After a while, Dúvainiel became tired, and Gimli and Legolas left her to rest.

The pattern of Legolas and Gimli keeping her company continued until she was well enough to be up and around. Once that happened, she then began to help in the planning of the coronation ceremony.

The day of the coronation arrived and everyone was nervous. Dúvainiel was grateful that it was finally here. That morning, she sat at a table, dressed and brushing her long hair out and thinking of her future. Once the coronation was over, she and Legolas would be leaving Minas Tirith and Gondor- at least temporarily. The King had asked Legolas to stay in Gondor to help him rebuild, but Legolas wasn't ready to settle down just yet. He and Dúvainiel had decided that they would accompany Gimili back to Rohan, back to the Crystal Caves at Helm's Deep, where they would leave him and head back to Lothlorien, and then Mirkwood. Although they had bonded some months before, there had been no ceremony, and Legolas was sure his father would want one for the prince. Thinking of a ceremony for herself and Legolas made her think of Evenstar. After the destruction of the Ring, everyone had waited anxiously for news from Imladris, only to be met with silence. She was thinking about her kin in the Woods and the other Elven realms when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she said as she set the brush down.

The door opened, and Legolas walked in. He wore a silver tunic, embroidered by the Elves of Mirkwood. Pinned near the top was a silver emblem of his homeland. She noticed he also wore his slender cirlet, a symbol of his status as a prince among Elves.

"Good morning, Dúvainiel," he said.

"Good morning," she said as she rose from the chair and walked over to him. She looked lovingly into his face and then brushed a stray lock of blonde hair away from his face, then leaned up to kiss his lips softly. He put his hands on her ears and returned the kiss.

"You look beautiful," he said when he pulled away.

"Thank you. You look very princely yourself," she teased.

He walked over to the table, where she had set her own circlet, and he picked it up and turned to her. She smiled at him as he placed it on her head and brushed her hair aside with his fingers.

"My lady," he whispered, then leaned down to her and kissed her softly. "I have a surprise for you."

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him questioningly. He didn't say anything, but took her hand instead and led her from the room.

"Legolas!" she giggled as he pulled her along.

"It's a secret," came his reply as he led her down a level of the city through the crowds that were headed up to where the coronation would be held in the courtyard. Finally, Legolas led her inside one of the buildings. She was shocked to see the large group of Elves inside.

"Dúvainiel!" she heard a familiar voice call her name. Working her way through the crowd of her kin, was Evenstar.

"Arwen!" Dúvainiel rushed forward and hugged the elleth fiercely. "I'm so glad to see you! And you look so beautiful!"

Arwen was dressed for the coronation, and looked more regal than Dúvainiel had ever seen her. The soft green dress brought out the blue in her eyes, and the intricate circlet crowning her head accentuated her elven ears.

"I've brought you a gift," Arwen said, taking Dúvainiel's hands and leading her towards the back of the room. Setting on a table, were many packages, some small, some larger. Arwen picked up a smaller one and handed it to Dúvainiel. Dúvainiel looked at the package, trying to guess what was inside. "It's from my grandmother."

Dúvainiel's eyes snapped back to her friend's face. "You've been to Lothlorien?" she asked. "Did you see Rumil and Orophin? How are they? How are the Golden Woods?"

Arwen laughed softly, "Your brothers are well. They worry for you, though. Knowing how close you were to Haldir…" Her voice trailed off.

"It was a near thing. If it had not been for Legolas, I would have been lost."

"Did you know," Arwen said softly, "my grandmother once tried to get me to fall in love with Haldir?"

"What?" Dúvainiel giggled.

"Yes," the older elleth replied. "Once, when I was in Lothlorien. It was a very long time ago, before you were born. She thought we would make a good match."

Dúvainiel giggled louder.

"Of course, he was so insufferably arrogant…" Arwen finished, causing Dúvainiel to then laugh so hard, tears fell from her eyes.

When she finally could catch her breath, she proudly said, "That he was."

Both elleths sighed and held far away looks as they both thought of the Marchwarden of the Golden Wood.

"Well, I guess I better open this," Dúvainiel said to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them. She opened the package gently, and a piece of folded parchment fell out and revealed a soft, golden cloth underneath. Dúvainiel gasped at the beauty, as she pulled it out. It was a dress. Cut in the style of a formal dress befitting a lady of Lothlorien, it was simple, yet elegant. The gold fabric was muted, rather than flashy, and the bodice and sleeves were embroidered with green mallorn leaves trimmed in a deeper gold. It was clear that Lady Galadriel was telling her that she would stand at the coronation as the representative from Lothlorien.

As she looked at the gown, Arwen leaned over and picked up the parchment and then handed it to her. She took it with a smile, laid the dress over her arm, and opened the paper.

_Dúvainiel, _

_Rumil and I hope this letter finds you well. When word reached us of Haldir's death, we were quite concerned for your well being. Lady Galadriel insisted that you were fine. The weight of the loss of the Elves has weighed heavily on her shoulders. _

_We've had some problems with Orcs near the border, and I sadly pass on the news that a great deal of our Golden Wood was lost in the North. Between the Elves leaving for the West and those lost to the War, there are few that remain to protect Lothlorien. Even the trees seem to be mourning. Rumil and I hope that, following your return home, we might join those leaving for Valinor._

_We look forward to your return._

_Your loving brother, Orophin_

Dúvainiel looked up to see Arwen giving her a concerned look. "How bad is it?" she asked.

Arwen sighed and looked away.

"Arwen, how bad is it?"

Their eyes met and Dúvainiel was taken back to the Golden Wood through Arwen's eyes. Dúvainiel felt like her heart stopped beating at that moment. Her beautiful woods, burned. It was just another reminder of how much had been lost in this war.

"I should have stayed home," Dúvainiel whispered.

"Dúvainiel…" Arwen started.

"No," she said forcefully. "I was needed there."

Arwen put a hand on her shoulder, "You couldn't have stopped it, Dúvainiel. Saruman took advantage of the fact that so many Elves left the Woods to help at Helm's Deep. You likely would have been gone anyways."

Dúvainiel sighed, knowing Arwen was right.

"Come on, Dúvainiel. This is a happy day. Let's not think of unhappy things today. Change into your dress."

Dúvainiel gave the other elleth a small smile, and shook her head. There would be time later to dwell on the unhappiness of the loss of the trees, but right now, there was nothing she could do about it. She pushed the sad thoughts to the back of her mind as she allowed Arwen to lead her to a room to change. She looked back at Legolas just before leaving the room. He was deep into a conversation with Elrond and another blonde Elf that Dúvainiel didn't know. She smiled at his look of concentration and then entered the room Arwen had led her to. She quickly changed gowns, and Arwen helped her fix her hair and circlet before they returned to the group of Elves waiting for the coronation to start.

She wondered through the group of Elves, mostly from Rivendell, though she met a few who had come from Mirkwood to escort the prince home.

"What is _this_?" a voice asked from behind her. She turned to see Legolas looking at her in wonder. "Surely I've been bewitched. What do you think, Silinde?" He turned to the Elf standing with him. "Is this not the most beautiful creature you have ever held your eyes on?"

"Your Highness is too kind," Dúvainiel said with a curtsy to the prince.

He held up his hand to her, "Now, now _heryn vuin,_ none of that." She grinned at his words as his companion raised an eyebrow. "Silinde, may I present Lady Dúvainiel, of Lothlorien?"

"My lady," Silinde said with a slight bow. "_Rhau vain gîn palan-híla"_

Dúvainiel blushed at the ellon's words and gave a small curtsy, "_Ni meren gen govaded, _Silinde."

"Legolas tells me that you will be returning to Mirkwood with us," Silinde said.

"Yes, I will."

"It will be my pleasure to escort you, my lady." He bowed again to her and then Legolas, "If you would excuse me."

"_Nan lû, _Silinde," Legolas said to his friend. He turned back to Dúvainiel and took her hands into his. "_Ce bain, _Dúvainiel." He leaned in and kissed her softly, ending only when someone near the door announced that it was time for the group to head to the court yard.

They held hands as they followed their kin. Arwen carried a banner adorned with the White Tree. King Elessar, as he would be named, would be so surprised to see his beloved.

The celebration continued long into the night. The drinking, the dancing, and Mithrandir's fireworks and just the peace of the evening kept everyone in high spirits. Elessar and Evenstar had disappeared into the citadel hours before Dúvainiel finally decided that she was ready for rest. Tomorrow they would begin their new adventure together, her and Legolas. She was excited to see her home again, however brief the visit would be, and she was nervous about going to Mirkwood and seeing Legolas' home and meeting his father. She lay on the bed looking out at the stars and every once in a while, a firework came into her line of vision. She reflected on her journey so far, from the day the Fellowship had entered the Golden Woods, and all the other events that led up to today's celebration. Now that Sauron was gone, she wondered what the future would hold. With peace settling over Middle Earth and most Elves sailing for Valinor, she thought her days as a warrior might be over. The thought made her happy and sad at the same time. She was ready now- ready to be a lady, ready to step into the role of wife and companion and perhaps someday, mother. The door to her room opened and closed quietly, and a moment later, the bed shifted as Legolas joined her. She smiled in contentment as he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her ear. Who knew what the future would hold for them.

_I veth!_

A/N- So now we are at the end of the story. BONUS POINTS if you caught the line Orlando was disappointed about being cut from the movie. BONUS POINTS if you caught the line Viggo wanted Aragorn to say that was in the book and not the movie. BONUS POINTS if you caught the William Wallace reference.

I've left it open to do a sequel, but it really depends on the feedback that I get. I really loved doing this story and I am so proud of myself, because it is the first one I've ever actually finished. I wish I could draw halfway decent, because I would love to draw some of the scenes and clothing that I visualized as I was writing. I hope my descriptions were enough to help you see what I saw in my mind. As always with my stories, this will go through a ton of revisions. Whenever I write, every time I read it, I find errors or little things I was to change, and I will do that with this. If you read through the whole thing as I updated, you might want to go back, because I did some revisions to every chapter before adding this final chapter.

RESOURCES USED:

The Lord of the Rings DVDs, regular AND extended editions (yes, I own both)

Bonus DVDs from the regular editions & 6 Appendices disks from the extended

Cast Commentary

Director's Commentary

A Guide to Tolkien by David Day

Several websites, which I will list with this story on my fan page when I finally get it up on the fan page.


End file.
